Termination: A Continued Story of Madeleine Cahill
by Lapulta J.R.R. Cahill
Summary: What is lost, cannot be found - or can it? Through what prose is 'lost' being written in? First? Second? What about third? Through whose eyes? Effecting what life? Or... could you be... just- lost?
1. Insertation

}o*o{}o*o{

_Stumbling forward, Madeleine made her way over the rocky, pebble-infested ground toward the two boulders. If she could just reach them- Madeleine dropped abruptly to the ground as a gun spotted her and bullets rained where she'd just been standing._

_"COVER THE SOUTH! PROTECT THE ENTRANCE!"_

_That was a rather stupid order, Madeleine mused. If she could crawl the last few yards, that was. Pebbles rolled beneath her fingers as Madeleine inched forward on the ground. Three yards... Two yards... One yard... Rough stones cut mercilessly into her skin. A drop of blood leaked out onto the ground staining the stones with a trail of red._

_Yanking herself up, Madeleine braced all her muscles and began to strain against the boulder. Slowly, inch by struggled inch, it gave way and slipped forward. Pausing for a moment, Madeleine listened to the sounds of battle below. The Lucians in their black teeshirts with red-lined pants were beginning to crawl over the edge. This was the perfect time._

_Gathering up all her breath, Madeleine cupped her hands to her mouth and aimed below as she slammed her shoulder against the boulder one last time._ "BOMBS AWAY!"

- Termination


	2. Prologue

**Well, well, well. What have we here? A **_**reader**_**. Oh **_**yes**_**! This ought to be good.**

**Now, listen very carefully to me reader. Are you listening? Good. **_**I know who you are**_**. You fall into two categories. You either are - one of the frivolous people who reviewed Forgiveness and added one of the twenty-five reviews to put Termination up. OR... You are - a person who is... reading my story - just for the heck of it.**

**JUST FOR THE HECK OF IT!**

**HAHAHA! THANK YOU!**

**Ahem.**

***composes self***

**Anyway... Let me skip straight to this much abused point. Termination ought to live up to your expectations. Waitasecond. You're skipping my words. Listen. TERMINATION. Not the first chapter, not the second chapter. Termination. If you are not content with my writing, PLEASE FLAME AND TELL ME. I don't like people who say it's 'awesome' just to read the next chapter, and I hate not liking people. It's sad, and it makes me cry. Save the tears, will you? Don't make me cry. Flame.**

**Next, Termination ought to be shorter than it's previous story; Forgiveness. If it's not, (and if you're reading this when you're looking at that little scroll down button and it's got 39 chapters on it and you're thinking Oh. My. God.) here is my recommendation for reading this story.**

**- Don't swallow EVERYTHING at once.**

**If you're really, really hooked on the story, you don't have to finish it that day, or that night. Relax. I'm pretty sure I won't delete the story, even though it would probably improve the archive if I did. Read a chapter a day, odd, since I write long chapters. It'll take you a month or two, but you'll reach the end, and then you can be satisfied you've read the longest/second longest story on the 39 Clues archive. :)**

**By the way, if you don't understand the paragraph three paragraphs above this paragraph, then you probably haven't read Forgiveness. If you haven't read Forgiveness, then I highly suggest that you go do so. Now. Because you will NOT understand what Termination is about if you haven't.**

**Lastly, I apologize for the enormous italics. This is the first chapter - lots of things need to be stated. The chapters after this shouldn't be half so bad; or as random.**

**Please, by all means, enjoy if you want to.**

**R, E, AND R! (Read, Enjoy, and Review)**

* * *

><p>M: <em>Hello there. Yes, I'm afraid it's me- that person you'd thought you'd gotten rid of. This is the 'continued' story of Madeleine Cahill, since Forgiveness was getting <em>way_ too long. It's a pity it had to end, right? Well anyway, we're back to the good ole' pen-and-paper because it's only Ed and me writing this chapter. Yeah, by the way, where is he...? Hm..._

_Oh well. He'll be coming soon anyway, and if he doesn't, I know where I can find him._

_LET IT BEGIN!_

* * *

><p><strong>Termination; A Continued Story of Madeleine Cahill<strong>

**Prologue**

_~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~!~_

_Two Years Prior;_

_Madeleine let a breath out as she turned to face the other fiery three. Edward's arm curled around her waist, pulling her close, and letting her know she wasn't alone. Bright stars twinkled above, showing the millions of people who were watching over the six. Madeleine could feel almost a faint feeling of someone else there. Watching, protecting. All the people she had known in her life. All the people she had loved._

_And Madeleine didn't care. She didn't have to. She had everything the way it needed to be. Her plan might have taken five hundred years to finish, but she had done it._

_Perhaps it was a good thing, not being able to say 'no' to Madeleine Elizabeth Cahill._

_~!~!~_

_Early December, 1998;_

Or in other ways, maybe it sucked.

Madeleine Cahill brought her fist up and slammed it against the computer's keyboard, coincidentally causing a jumble of letters on the screen that she didn't want. Giving a soft exasperated sigh, Madeleine put her arms on the table and groaned. It was so, so- frustrating! The forever-seventeen-year-old ghost pretended to be writing the letter on a piece of paper in her mind. And - voila. There was the letter that she needed to write.

But unfortunately for her, computers had just become 'all-necessary' in the world. Grace was ultimately convinced that the Madrigal branch had to switch to computerization, or let the world die a Cahill-infested, painful death. _Which means, _Madeleine groaned, looking disgustedly up at the slim, petite computer screen in front of her. _That I've got to learn how to send _emails _on this hunk of wired junk._

Emails. _Emails!_ Who cared about a stupid galvanized piece of junk that you couldn't use white-out on? _Well,_ Madeleine added in her mind, straightening up and pulling her swivel chair back towards the edge of the table. _At least I'm not a blonde. If I _was _a blonde, Ed would _never_ let me hear the end of that episode. _Ever_!*_

Edward. That was another thing. Edward didn't have problems. At least, not with computers. And if he did have problems, he never said anything about them. Typing, and Googling things were as easy to him as if he had been doing it all his life. It just wasn't fair!

* * *

><p>E: <em>It wasn't fair?<em>

M: _Oh! _Finally.

E: _Yes, 'finally'. Now I'm here._

M: _Good. You start writing in about two paragraphs._

* * *

><p>With a quick twist, Madeleine pushed herself away from the computer, going out into the middle of the room; still in the soft, cushiony swivel chair. She got up- and was pulled back down. <em>Shoot.<em> Madeleine's eyes flashed dangerously at the black wire wrapped around her ankle.

Bracing herself in the chair, the girl pulled with all her might. There was a 'pop', and the sound of a computer shutting off. "No!" The girl's eyes practically popped out of her head when she screamed. Racing over to the computer, she frantically punched keys, trying to get the screen to reappear. It didn't.

_Please, please, _please_, turn on!_ Suddenly Madeleine felt her free foot land on the cord. There was a startled yelp, and then the girl was floundering on the floor, tangled in a length of angry, black computer cord.

"Need help?"

At that moment, Madeleine positively _hated_ the soft, caring voice. "No."

She could hear each step as he crossed the room, and then a pair of laughing, curious, liquid-blue eyes looked down on her. "Sure?"

"Positive," Madeleine stuck her tongue out at him and tried to free her feet from their entrapped position. They didn't move.

"You're stuck," Edward grinned impishly at her.

"Not."

"You're stuck," The words were almost like a confirmation of the 'fact'.

"Madeleine looked down at the black cord and sighed. "Yeah," She finally admitted softly. "I'm stuck."

* * *

><p>E: <em>I actually believe it<em> pained _you to admit that, Maddie._

M: _I wasn't even STUCK! It was just a complicated matter of stupid wires._

E: _A complicated matter of stupid wires, equals, stuck._

M: _Doesn't._

E: _Uh-huh. Does._

M: _Doesn't._

E: _And why not?_

M: _Because... you don't necessarily have to be 'in' the wires for them to be complicated._

E: _You're a winner. Keep writing._

* * *

><p>"I can get you out," Edward offered.<p>

"I'm fine. I'll get myself out." But at the same time, Madeleine wondered how in the world one length of black cord could helplessly entangle a person till they were unable to move.

"You're stuck, Maddie." Edward shot to her, giving her a 'don't argue' glance. "And-" His eyebrows twisted together for a second. "And aren't you suppose to be sending Hope those archeologist résumé changes I made?"

Madeleine tried not to let her guilty expression show. "I was."

The blond-haired boy sighed as he knelt down and started to untangle the wires. Then he held up a plug, giving Madeleine an exasperated look. "You lost everything you didn't save, didn't you."

"Save..." Madeleine frowned. "What's that?"

Edward let go of the plug and rocked back on his heels. His head rested against the edge of the table. "Three hours," he groaned, eyes turned up pleadingly to the ceiling. "_Three hours_, Madeleine. It took you _three hours_. And all you had to do was _copy_ and_ paste_."

"Copy and paste?"

Edward pretended not to see the blank look on Madeleine's face, and continued unraveling her from the cord. "Alright," he finally sighed, helping her up. "I know you hate working on the computer. But you have to do it. Grace needs you to check through everything. You're her assistant. And what better assistant than Madeleine Elizabeth Cahill herself?"

"I don't want to be her assistant," Madeleine whispered. The whole conversation was sounding so repetitive after the 547th time she simply wished that she could fast-forward time and get to the end. "Grace doesn't need me. All I do is read a bunch of stupid crap about plans and diagrams, say it's 'fine' and give it back. And now, with this computer thing. Edward, I can't do anything! Letters were fine. I can handle letters. But this- this is-"

Edward held a finger to her lips, silencing her. "I know it's hard. But you can do it. I know you can. I _know_ you."

"Only if I want to," Madeleine reminded him. "And I don't want to."

Edward sighed. Madeleine squirmed slightly under his gaze. The blue eyes weren't loving, they were hard, firm, intrigued. She could feel Edward trying to dig deeper; trying to find answers to the unasked questions. Finally he looked away, at the floor. "Maddie," He whispered. Feeling her ears perk up, Madeleine turned towards him. This wasn't the direction the conversation usually took. "Maddie, what if we switched? If I did all the things you wanted to do, and then you just helped me. How's that? It would give you a bit more time to figure out the way computers work."

Madeleine felt her heart leap upward, instantly freed by his words. "_Really_?" She breathed.

There was a quick nod. "But just for a little bit. You know Grace. She'll be mad as a hornet when she finds out."

Barely hearing the last sentence, Madeleine threw her arms around Edward's waist and buried her head in his olive green teeshirt. "Thank you," She breathed. "Have I told you in the past four hours that I love you?"

Edward chuckled softly, wrapping his arms around her. "I love you, too, Madeleine," He murmured. "Just remember, it's temporary."

Madeleine, of course, didn't hear him.

* * *

><p><em>Two Weeks Later;<em>

The laundry was typically suppose to be Madeleine's priority. Her mind wandered though, as it so often did when it wasn't busy. Turning around, she placed the clean, neatly folded towel in an empty laundry basket.

The washing and drying machines were in the garage. When she'd designed the house, Madeleine hadn't wanted two large, clanging machines nearby, so she put a door in the kitchen that opened into a hallway a hundred yards long. At the end of the hill, and the one hundred yards, the hallway opened into a spacious 30 by 40 by 10 garage.

Of course, it was a hike back to the house...

Madeleine's mouth twitched in distaste as she folded one of Edward's teeshirts. _But it's worth it. It's really worth it since you don't have these stupid things banging around. And you back out of the garage and you're automatically on the road! What's better than that? _Besides the fact you could drive right over the garage door and never know it was there.

Folding another shirt, Madeleine wondered. It was interesting - the change that had taken place in Edward after he had 'become' Grace's assistant. _It- it almost seems like he's _enjoying _it._ Madeleine was relishing in the time off. She had cleverly found a way to wriggle out of all Edward's 'computer classes', so she was free to do whatever she pleased. Within Edward's restrictive rules, that was.

Madeleine bit her lip and wondered if she could somehow talk Thomas into secretly taking her skydiving. "Now _that_-" She spoke out loud to herself. "Would be _amazing_." But Edward would never go for it. It was clearly stated in rule #57 none of her brother and/or sisters could take her doing anything that was going to put her in any danger. Madeleine scowled at the clothes to show her frustration. It was so- so _stupid_. Edward knew perfectly well that she wasn't going to get hurt in any form, shape, or way, yet he didn't let her do _anything._

"I wonder if that bucket is there yet..." The absent murmuring was silenced, and Madeleine stood completely still for an entire minute, listening. Then the sound of faint stomping feet reached her ears.

With a quick twist, Madeleine dived head-first into the laundry basket containing un-folded sheets and blankets. Covered there, she huddled safely out of sight, yet watched the door to the garage anxiously from a peephole between two sheets.

Madeleine began to doubt herself after a few more silent seconds. The heat under the just-dried clothes was utterly sweltering, and since she was wearing jeans and a teeshirt, it felt like she was rubbing coarse sandpaper against her legs every time she moved. Barely daring to breath, Madeleine watched anxiously as the footsteps were heard again, louder this time. It _was_ Edward.

For one full second, it seemed like everything was completely void of sound, then the door flew in. "_MADELEINE ELIZABETH CAHILL!_" Edward's roar was practically inhuman, and Madeleine had to wonder slightly under sheets, if she had perhaps, pressed things a _bit_ too far in her quest to break a few of Edward's stupid rules.

Giggling couldn't be helped, and even though Madeleine quickly slapped her hand over her mouth, Edward still heard the chuckle. "GET OUT HERE NOW!" Edward tore around the room, opening and closing cabinets and drawers in the hope Madeleine would be in one of them. It was a vain search, and slightly ridiculous as Edward's top half was soaking wet.

Madeleine gigged again.

* * *

><p>E: <em>Okay, that was NOT funny!<em>

M: _Was._

E: _I was trying to save you from splattering your remains into the English Channel!_

M: _You were trying to save a..._ ghost's _remains from splattering into the English Channel. Wow, Ed._

E: _You could have been hurt!_

M: _I was a ghost._

E: _So?_

M: _Whatever. You're not getting it. Keep writing._

* * *

><p>Edward slammed the last cabinet so hard a screwdriver fell off of his workbench. "FINE!" He roared, "You get your way, Madeleine! But trust me, Thomas is not taking you higher than thirty-five thousand feet! <em>You hear me<em>?"

The sheets exploded in a flurry of excitement. Madeleine threw her arms around Edward so fast he had to stumbled back with a hand on his workbench to make sure he didn't fall down. "See, I _knew_ you'd see reason!" Madeleine grinned, gripping him tighter than ever, even though he was wet. "You just needed a little... persuading!"

"Go get packed," Edward snapped, rolling his eyes. "And tell him to beware of contradicting you with anything so you don't have to bother setting up a gallon of water on a doorframe."

"Don't be mad," Madeleine gently let him go. "I'm not going to do anything stupid. Stop worrying about me."

There was a soft sigh and Madeleine felt Edward's wet arms wrapping around her. She had to grin slightly at that. "Skydiving's dangerous," Edward whispered. "Something I don't want you to be doing. What if you get hurt?"

"But I'm not going to get hurt," Pushing away from him, Madeleine smiled brightly up into his face. "I'm going to come home in three days happier than a boasting peacock, and twice as proud; with not a scratch on me besides."

Edward rolled his eyes, tired of the argument. "Fine, but promise me, be careful; for my sake."

Madeleine's only reply was a grin, and scampering off in her impish way to the house. _I won!_ She thought jubilantly, but a picture of Edward's worried eyes popped into her head and she slowed. Edward was protective, but still... Slackening up to a stop, Madeleine looked over her shoulder. There was no sign of Edward yet. He was most likely walking back to the house at a normal pace. _Why..._ She groaned to herself. _Why do I have to be the one stuck with him when he's so overprotective he could be Olivia?_

And she couldn't leave him. It just- it just wasn't right. She could imagine his worried face, waiting anxiously for her return, even though she hadn't left yet. There was no way she could go with her brother and enjoy herself, knowing Edward was here alone. Thinking that way, she wouldn't even be enjoying herself. _Curses._ She though disgustedly, still looking over her shoulder. Then she turned around and started back through the tunnel that she had so happily ran over a few moments earlier.

Madeleine stared at Edward, somewhat disgruntled over the fact she was denying herself a chance to go skydiving, and she was somewhat worried over Edward. He was walking in a stiff manner, stalking, more than walking, and his mouth was twisted downwards into a frown. He seemed upset somehow, frightened over an unknown subject. Skydiving was an enormous tempter, but Edward was worth more than that; Edward was worth more than _anything_. _Unfortunately..._ Madeleine sighed, and she stepped out from behind the curve in the tunnel.

Edward perked up when he saw her, and Madeleine could see the hope in his eyes that perhaps, she wasn't going skydiving after all. _Unfortunately true..._ She answered his hope in her head. _Quite true... But he better have at least five boxes of dark chocolate raspberry truffles to make up for it!_

"I thought you were getting packed," There was a light smirk as Madeleine walked close.

"Where did you get a dry shirt?" Madeleine shot back quickly.

Edward smiled, reaching out and wrapping his still damp arm around her waist. "It's not called a 'dryer' for nothing." Madeleine couldn't think of anything to reply to that, and so they silently walked together down the tunnel.

After a moment, Edward suddenly stopped and faced her. "So what _are_ you doing?"

Madeleine bit her lip, unsure. "I don't want to go," She finally breathed.

The hand around Madeleine's waist dropped and Edward's eyebrows flew up. "Don't _want_ to go?"

"Well, I want to go," The seventeen year old bit her lip again. "But I can't leave you here... alone. That's more dangerous than me going skydiving."

There was a stare of amazement, and then Edward burst out laughing. "You leaving _me_? Dangerous?"

Madeleine quickly snorted. "That's what I said a few hours ago to you."

Looking up and shaking his head, Edward sighed in exasperation. "What _am_ I going to do with you?" He muttered, then wrapped his arm around her waist again. "Come on, you can tell Tom you're not going. He won't believe me."

Madeleine nodded, leaning slightly against Edward's arm and walking up the tunnel again. He understood... somehow. Perhaps not as exactly as Madeleine would have liked, but she didn't feel like explaining her full meaning to him at that instant. "Ed," She finally whispered when they were almost to the door. "Can I ask you something?"

Edward rolled his eyes and opened the door for her. "What? Was _this_ what you were thinking about while we were walking?"

"It's about bribery," Madeleine impishly looked him in the eye. "I was wondering if you happened to have a box of dark chocolate raspberry truffles."

Edward groaned and laughingly pushed her through the door.

* * *

><p>M: <em>You did give me that box, didn't you?<em>

E: _Yup. A pity, because those dark chocolate ones were_ really _good._

M: _Yeah, they were. Now, I believe that both you, and Luke are in the next chapter. Try and be good, will you, and not bite each other's head off?_

E: _Then that chapter's not getting done until Luke finishes his paperwork._

M: _What paperwork?_

E: _The paperwork that's suppose to authorize two Lucian agents to come to Madagascar._

M: _It _WHAT_?  
><em>  
>E: <em>Oh, chill.<em>

M: _THAT'S- THAT'S INSANE!_

E: _No, it's not. Relax. I'm doing everything. I thought you trusted me._

M: _I trust _YOU_! It's THEM I don't trust!_

E: _Hm... I trust them._

M: _If they so touch one thing..._

E: RELAX FOR HEAVEN'S SAKE! _I've got everything under the click of a buttom. Now, as soon as Luke finishes his paperwork, then we can write the next chapter. Alright?_

M: _Fine. But if they-_

E: _Madeleine..._

* * *

><p><strong>* If nobody has heard about the joke; 'How can you tell if blonde has used your computer?' Here's the answer: 'There's white-out on the screen.' Think about what Madeleine was saying there... I predict you'll start laughing in a minute. =D<strong>

**Well, how did you like it? I know it's not perfect - trust me; nobody knows it more than I do. Once I've gotten halfway through, I'll look back and begin editing it with clearer eyes. The italic parts also, I know, are not full-capacity. Once it gets into it, it will be better. I'm at chapter eighteen. And once you get there and read those italics I just finished, I predict you shall die laughing. ;D**

**Do you like Dark Chocolate Raspberry Truffles just as much as Madeleine Cahill? (Ex: You would pour five gallons of maple syrup over your future husband's head to get him to reveal where he's hidden them.) (i.e.: You would pour five gallons of honey over your future wife's head to get her to reveal where she's hidden them...)**

**Question; Where do you think the story will go?**


	3. Unghosting

**Directed towards Sunshine, there will admittedly be only one sectional flashback. And even then, it's not really a **_**flashback**_**. It's part of the story in its own right; I find true flashbacks hard to work with and irkingly discontenting with the storyline. So... only that sectional flashback.**

**I won't say anything about the other guesses except that Madeleine does many stupid things - is the ending to your guess still the same? XD I don't know.**

**Once again, I'll say that this chapter is not what it **_**could**_** be. Spare me momentarily. I'll get back to it someday. I'm still editing Forgiveness!**

* * *

><p><em>*Darth Cahill has logged on* *Wicked Harmony has logged on*<em>

DC: So... What are we doing? We're back to the chat room again.

WH: Luke ought to be showing up soon, but he doesn't come in till the end of the chapter. Let's write and not wait for him.

DC: PERFECTLY fine by me. He deserves a little cold shoulder.

WH: He deserves your help with that stupid paperwork. And for heaven's sake, don't tell me that he can do it all by himself. I know he can. But apparently, he doesn't want to. That's the key there...

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter One;<strong>

**Un-ghosting**

_Two Years Later;_

Giving a groan, Madeleine pushed her dust-covered, ridiculously large computer to the end of her lab table. She was in the room next to the end of the underground house. The room next to the room she was in, a few steps down the hallway, was Edward's office. Edward's office, unlike her own lab, was contorted in a mixture of state-of-the-art computers, TV's, gadgets and multiple gizmos. Madeleine hated even walking into the room, fearing an fatal electric shock, or at least a giant avalanche of computers and technology. It was a room to be feared.

But the room next to it was the complete opposite. Madeleine had designed her own 'office' to Edward's glee; he was hoping that she had finally moved in technological advancement; but after it was built, Madeleine had re-named it; 'lab', and Edward's hopes were crushed. If you walked in Madeleine's 'lab', there was a table reaching from the wall next to the door, all the way to the opposite wall - about ten feet - and then another table reaching from the end of the first table, to about four feet short of the next wall, where a trash can and recycle bin filled the 'vacant space'. At Edward's urging, Madeleine had placed a computer in the room; but with disuse, it had gotten pushed down all the way to where the trash can and recycle bin were.

Madeleine straightened up and focused back on her main task. Empty, full, and half full jars and breakers littered the two tables. There were containers of ingredients as well, flasks and vials. It was a regular scientist's bonanza. Both Katherine and Madeleine had spent many happy hours in the room, playing with things that could easily be called 'worse than fire'. But nothing had been blown up yet, to Edward's relief.

* * *

><p>DC: You spoke too soon.<p>

WH: Okay, that was NOT my fault!

DC: And it was Katherine's? Katherine is NOT that stupid.

WH: ahem ... *cough* ... ahem

DC: Okay, fine, whatever. Katherine is NOT that mentally challenged that she would bring PLUTONIUM into the house.

WH: It was only the lab.

DC: ONLY? You could have BLOWN US ALL UP! We probably all have LUKEMIA right now!  
>WH: I highly doubt that.<p>

DC: Oh, yes... _WHY?_  
>WH: Because we're all genetically enhanced so we <em>don't<em> get sick.

DC: And you still caught a cold last week?

_*Total Lucian has logged on*_

WH: Colds are unavoidable, Ed. You can't treat them, and you can't be vaccinated from them. Hey, Luke! You changed your username!

TL: It's easier to write. And I like this one better.

WH: Cool. How's Lu? I heard he was down for the count.

DC: Sick? *snorts*

WH: Oh, shut up, Ed. It's a cold.

TL: I think so. He's sitting on the couch across from me, scowling, because I'm grinning at him and enjoying his misery.

WH: Nice... But this is the middle of the chapter, and we haven't even gotten anything done yet. Keep writing.

* * *

><p>Reaching over two feet of table, Madeleine ran her fingers over a small, glass vial. It was filled with a dark liquid, not exactly black, but definitely not grey. Inside, was something she and Katherine had been toying with the idea of for a long time. There was a row of vials next to it, in separate holders. The colors were all different for each vial; red - jasper red; a yellowish color, like fresh mustard; bluish-purple - something there was no name for; a green vial - parsley, and two black vials.<p>

For the fifth time in the hour she'd been in the room, Madeleine was yearningly tempted to drink one of the black vials. Biting her lip, the seventeen year old ghost argued with herself. The vial was there. So dang _close_! But it was always better to wait, to be patient, to test whatever the serum did _before_ it was tried on a human._ But-_ Madeleine's mind stuttered, unwilling to admit defeat. _But it's suppose to work. It'll work on paper. The DNA codes are in. The RNA too, and the DNA alternates- everything's right!_

But unsafe.

_Damn unsafe!_

* * *

><p>TL: YES! The <em>CLASSIC<em> Madeleine expression. 'DAMN UNSAFE!'

WH: I resent that...

DC: You always resent everything that isn't for you. Keep writing.

* * *

><p>Madeleine snatched up the vial, uncorked it, and swallowed the contents all in one smooth move.<p>

In the next instant, she felt that she had done something incredibly stupid, incredibly dumb, and incredibly brave. _Heck to Katherine!_ Madeleine grinned. _I'll be the first one to NOT be a stupid ghost, and this will all- Well, if it works._ There was a momentary pause in her rush of excitement. _If it works, then perhaps this can be our chance to live again. Like we were truly suppose to live in fifteen-o-twenty._ Madeleine lazily opened one eye since she had closed both of them. It had suddenly become slightly darker in the room, or was it just her?

Madeleine straightened up and yawned, eyes flickering about the room. Then she stopped dead. She had _yawned_. Yawned. Like - yawned, human-wise, like she hadn't in five hundred _years_. A grin plastered itself on the girl's face and her eyes twinkled merrily. _Human_.

It was funny what that word actually meant.

"Good-bye, immortal!" She sang to herself. She could feel a bouncing, adrenaline-fueled, rush coming on, and it felt good. _Insanely_ good. Snatching up the other black vial, she scampered out of the room and bounced five feet down the hall, then stopped dead.

She could see Edward in the room, but that wasn't what was worrying her. It was the giant TV that loomed right next to the doorway. It was faced away, and was just above her head level, so she could see the back of it clearly, and it looked as if it was going to fall on her. Being extremely careful, she pushed her big toe over the door frame and onto the carpet.

Nothing happened.

She slid her entire foot over the frame and gently set it down on the floor beyond.

Nothing happened.

"You look ridiculous," Edward snorted. Madeleine looked into the room and realized that there was a mirror next to Edward's desk so he could see whoever was coming into the room without turning around. He was peering into it, looking at her.

"Get rid of that TV," Madeleine shot back. She stepped into the room and gave up a quick prayer of thanks that the TV hadn't crushed her. This time.

Edward had already turned back to the computer.

Madeleine stepped forward, biting her lip. The serum-induced adrenaline rush had worn down, and she was feeling rather normal again. That didn't bother her though, it was mostly the fact Edward was - ignoring her. And it wasn't even ignoring. He was just... completely not aware of her; she was non-existent while the computer was running. _Non-existent_.

"Edward," Madeleine gently rested a hand on his shoulder. For the first time, it didn't rest lightly on his shoulder, it would have gone all the way through if Madeleine hadn't stopped herself. "Edward, you know that vial Katherine and I were making? I-"

"Hey, Maddie, I'm busy now." Edward didn't look up.

The words weren't said unkindly, they were quite the opposite in fact; gentle, understanding. But Madeleine could feel the vacancy behind them. Edward was nowhere near her. She felt like she'd been slapped in the face. "But, Ed, you don't understand," Madeleine slid her free hand down to rest it lightly on the image of his keyboard-typing hand. "This is the vial all of us have been wanting. We don't have to be-"

"Madeleine, later please," Edward's hand reached up and squeezed her own lightly. It was cold, like the touch of a frigid breeze, and Madeleine had to stop herself from flinching. "I'm busy now. Perhaps later."

There was nothing she could do besides pulling the plug on the hated computer, and Madeleine knew Edward would _never_ listen to her if she did that. So she backed out of the room, slowly, then turning around and going into the hallway. She didn't even pay attention to the looming TV. Edward's vacancy had always been in the back of Madeleine's head; that little trigger that something wasn't right. The bullet was shot now. Edward was gone.

Gone.

_Gone._

The word had held little meaning before, but this was different. _Everything_ was different. Edward was gone. And this wasn't even like before, in 1514, because he was still there, still playing his part, yet gone from her.

Madeleine leaned against the hallway wall next to the door of her lab. Her arms were wrapped tightly around herself; clutching herself together so she wouldn't fly apart, and two tiny tears found their way down her cheeks. The seventeen year old brushed them away quickly. _It's so funny,_ she thought with irony, _that when Luke left, it was so different. I _need_ Edward, like- like I need to breathe. _And yet he wasn't there for her.

Pushing off the wall, Madeleine rapidly strode into her lab and placed the vial in the little holder where it had been next to her own. Her hand knocked against the empty vial and it rolled clumsily off the table and onto the carpeted floor without breaking. Madeleine stooped and picked it up, holding it in her hand. "I hate you," she murmured. "If it wasn't for you, I'd still be ignorant, at least."

But was being ignorant better, or worse than knowing?

Madeleine set the empty vial back in the holder next to Edward's black vial and turned around, pulling her cell phone out of her pocket. At least there was _one_ technology thing she could use without hesitating. Typing in Luke's phone number, Madeleine held her breath, waiting for him to pick up.

_"Hello, who's this? Jane, if it's you, NO I am NOT going to play in that crazy concert you enrolled yourself into. Don't you know enough that I'm going to wreck it if you let me set a foot in that place?"_

"Luke, it's me," Madeleine smiled in her wry way; but there was no edge to the sarcasm in her tone, and the wry smile had lost it's wryness.

_"Oh, thank God, Maddie. I was getting tired of one caller for the fifth time. Now, if you don't mind using up all your minutes, why don't you just leave the phone open so Jane can get a busy line every time she tries to call."_

* * *

><p>TL: I never did go to that concert, thank God...<p>

DC: Jane was blowing a gasket, wasn't she?

TL: Oh, more than a gasket. She blew the whole _fuse box_.

WH: =D

* * *

><p>"Nice try," The girl grinned. "Edward would kill me." <em>But would he really?<em> Madeleine wondered. _If he's too busy to notice..._

_"Eh... I understand,"_ It sounded like Luke snorted. Over the phone, there was only a heavy breathing sound that was similar to a quickened Darth Vader breath. _"I didn't really think you'd do it anyway. At least I get a five minute break. So how are you, Mads? I haven't seen you in forever. You know that, right?"_

"You saw me on Saturday," Madeleine rolled her eyes, running her free hand over the table. "Listen, Luke, could I stop by? I was wondering... I mean, if you aren't that busy..."

_"HA!"_ There was another snort, larger this time, making it sound like Luke Skywalker had joined his Father in the quest to make the galaxy deathly afraid of heavy breathing. _"Is this actually Madeleine Cahill talking? Since when does Madeleine Cahill _ask _permission to come over?"_

"Since now," Madeleine chuckled lightly.

There was silence for a moment. _"Maddie, are you... alright?"_

Luke had caught on, just like she'd known he would. "Yeah," Madeleine whispered. "I'm fine, Luke. It's just- how about I tell you about it when I get there? Are you busy?"

_"Nah, I'm cool. Just give a honk when you pull up to the apartments, K? Mrs. Flabbottom has been driving me nuts with the 'won't you help a poor old lady' line. I swear. It's like every time I walk outside to go to the car she wants me to fix something. I'm scared to open my door. Yeah. Anyway, Mads, see you there!"_

The line went dead.

Madeleine gently closed the phone, still smiling. Luke was so funny; funnier than all Jane's comedian descendants by far. And he _understood_ her. There wasn't a better mix for a wanted brother anywhere.

The seventeen year old popped the red vial out of it's holder, pocketed it, and quickly walked out of her lab, starting towards the garage.

* * *

><p><em>Tired...<em>

Madeleine's heavy eyelids blinked with methodic slowness. Pulling the car keys out of her pocket, she plopped them with a jingle on the counter. The house smelled of food that was slightly burned, and Madeleine's nose twitched offensively. With a quick twist, she leaned forward and dug an empty carton out of the trash can. There was a large, red label on it reading - CHEESE AND BEAN BURRITO. _Of course,_ Madeleine rolled her eyes. _When the wife's away, the husband plays - and eats cheese and bean burritos. Fits._ And of course, as well, there were no dishes in the sink besides her one plate. Edward hadn't even taken enough time to get off the computer, to do _that. _And if he _really_ didn't want to do it, then why did he eat at all? He _was_ a ghost.

All Madeleine's anxiety flooded back, rushing forth like the hot water flooding out of the kitchen sink's faucet.

* * *

><p>DC: I don't know if I like that ending. It doesn't seem... complete.<p>

WH: So?

TL: Fix it. You're the one who's part Jane, are you not?

WH: Ed ought to fix it. He's the one who caught it.

DC: Then leave it that way, because I'm not touching it.

TL: Nice. Okay, I'm going to split, because Lu is giving me an evil eye and pointing to the pot on the counter that's over-boiling and I'm placidly ignoring it and typing on here... *whistles*

DC: Great. Nice, Luke.

TL: Thanks. I really do need to go now, because someone's calling... Bye!

WH: Bye, Luke!

_*Total Lucian has logged off*_

DC: Hey, Maddie. Did you hear that Jane's having another 'horror flick' night?

WH: No. _Ugh._ That 'Let me In?' *shudders*

DC: You didn't like it? Oh, I thought you'd want to go. They're trying to root out some classic ones now. Jaws and Jaws 2 are on the list, I know that much.

WH: REALLY? Then I'm going.

DC: Typical... And go check on Julianna, will you? She's... trying to hack my computer with her laptop, I think...

_*Wicked Harmony has logged off* *Darth Cahill has logged off*_

* * *

><p><strong>My favorite part in this chapter was Luke exclaiming that Jane blew a fuse box. :D<strong>

**Question; Is there anything you don't understand, or confuses you in this chapter? If there is, please PM me, or ask a question in your review, because - like Forgiveness - the first chapter is pretty much the most important one. If it's confusing you, you might not understand the story; and I do want you to understand it.**

**Eh... on second thought, perhaps you ought to wait and see how the story turns out, then if you STILL don't get it, ask. o_O Either way, it's up to you. :) So please, PM or review.**

***coughs* That last sentence was wrong.  
><strong>***rewrites* So please, PM.**

**REVIEWS ARE MANDITORY!**

***laughs*  
><strong>***leaves people to review*  
><strong>***glares at people who ignored her last legible sentence and do not plan to review***


	4. The Remaining Vial

***sings* Second Chapter!**

**Sorry for being lazy about the update... I've been on a writer's block for Termination; being so busy with the new fic and all that I (reallyreallyreally) want to get done, so I was telling myself that I wouldn't update this until I worked a bit on it. I didn't get much done; just italics, but still, I credited it to myself. And in return, you can give me a few reviews. ;D**

**Yes, Madeleine is now human. She will die just like other humans. :)**

* * *

><p><em>*Darth Cahill has logged on* *Total Lucian has logged on*<em>

DC: Hey, Luke.

TL: Hi, Ed.

DC: So how are you?

TL Just dandy. You know, I don't see why you need my help on this chapter. Maddie said it's all you.

DC: Will you not tell?

TL: What?

DC: No, will you not say anything? I need your help with a problem.

TL: Uh... okay...?

DC: Sweet. So here's the deal. Madeleine's pissed at me, like, sulkish-give-glares mad, and I can't figure out why.

TL: You didn't insult her cooking?

DC: No.

TL: Didn't invite someone over to dinner who insulted her cooking?

DC: No! I don't even invite people over to dinner!

TL: Okay... You haven't been spending too much time on the computer?

DC: No, and she stops me anyway. Why on earth would I be writing this?

TL: Point taken. I... don't know. You didn't forget anything, did you?

DC: No... I don't think so. What on earth could I miss? I mean, we both stay at home and conduct our lives from there. If I forgot anything, Maddie would have told me.

TL: I don't know. The Ways of Madeleine are greatly mysterious.

DC: XD Point taken. Let's start writing before someone notices and hops on here.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Two;<strong>

**The Remaining Vial**

It was midnight.

Edward flicked open his email inbox for the fifth time in the hour. Sure enough, there was Grace again. It didn't help her being all the way in China, trying to dig a bit deeper in the research on the anonymous family and that weird message the Madrigals had intercepted. _Ah, what's it matter?_ Edward scanned through the email and quickly hit the reply button.

The reply was quick. Just something to keep her quiet for the next hour. _And now..._ Edward exited out of the inbox and Googled a few random topics that he needed to know to fill out Arthur's Math Professor résumé. Although random, the facts were mildly interesting. If he could get the form filled out right, on the top there would be a long, complicated formula that was entirely gibberish, and then below it, there would be; 'This is why you hire me.'

Classic!

But that was if he could get it right. Arthur had agreed about the uniqueness, but was rather controversial on the 'gibberish' part. 'Gibberish', he had argued, had absolutely _nothing_ to do with mathematics. If he was going to have a long, complicated formula on top of his résumé, the formula was going to be right, and going to be done right. So of course, Katherine got involved. Then there was the argument over whether 'n' or 'j' should stand for, 'number of jobs done'.

They still hadn't gotten that ironed out.

_Stock market..._ Edward scrolled down the webpage, thinking hard. The Ekats were plotting something, and the Lucians were trying to thwart them. That could be the only reason Boeing's stats were falling... Edward paused for a second, making himself a mental note to take a online class on Stock market actions.

Then there was that uprising of Lucians, causing trouble all over the globe. He had to check that too. Scrolling down 'Favorites', Edward clicked 'CNN' and scrolled through the news website. There really wasn't much, and they hadn't updated the site since six o'clock.

Slightly bored for a moment, Edward's ears listened for any sound of Madeleine's doings. Usually she was cooking, or baking at midnight, but there was... Nothing. Edward spun around in his chair and listened harder. No, there was nothing. No footsteps, no clatters; no purr of a car either. Edward frowned, glancing at the mirror by his desk and out into the dark hallway. Nope, nobody there. Madeleine was absent, but- if she had gone, like- left to go do something, then she would have left a note on the counter. Edward walked out of his study and went to look.

No note.

Anxiety began to get the best of him. As much as he hated it, Edward opened the door to Madeleine's lab -oh, for a computerized room!- and looked around. It was empty as well. His head twisted up to look for a trap. Perhaps a gallon of water, or a large pasting of fly-trap so he would have to get rid of his shoes. No, nothing.

* * *

><p>TL: Maddie did that to YOU TOO?<p>

DC: The try-trap? Oh yeah. It's her favorite trick.

TL: Ow, dude, that hurts.

DC: No kidding. And if you can't get the sticky stuff off, then you have to throw the shoes away... Ouch.

* * *

><p>Something caught Edward's eye as he scanned the room, and he stepped closer to the tables, curious. There were six vials. He noticed. Two were empty, the ones that were left were blue, yellow, and greenish. There was a black one too, and the one beside it, was empty.<p>

Edward's stomach twisted. What was Madeleine doing now? She had mentioned something... earlier in the day, perhaps... Something about vials, and... and- Katherine? But what about Katherine? And what were they doing... together?

Frowning, Edward turned around, left Madeleine's lab, and turned into 'the bedroom'. There was a large bed in the middle of the room; a night-stand by its side, and a cabinet of dresser drawers against the wall opposite of the bed. An entryway opened, door-less, into the large bathroom area. All the figures were props. Ghosts needed, pretty much nothing.

Edward's attention was diverted to the figure lying on the bed just as quickly as he had whirled through the house looking for her. But this wasn't her. This wasn't a ghost lying there, besides, ghosts didn't sleep. The girl's cheeks were flushed a rosy red, and her black hair was spread out over the pillow. She was frowning slightly, looking worried; perhaps in the middle of a bad dream.

Edward drifted closer and rested his hand lightly on the girl's cheek. The difference surprised him. She was solid; flesh through-and-through. Suddenly the girl shifted, pulling away in unconscious discomfort from his frigid hand. Of course. That was what the vials did. Closing his eyes, Edward pulled up how they had looked a few minutes before. Sure enough, there were six, and they were the five different colors. Yellow - Katherine; blue - Thomas; green - Jane; black - Madeleine and himself. That would credit for the reason one of them was empty. And the missing empty one? Perhaps that had been red. If that was the case, then Luke had already taken the serum and was... Edward could barely force himself to think the word.

_Human._

Madeleine was right. Edward tried to recall the slight conversation he'd had with her earlier. He'd sort of been tuning her out, but he still caught a little of it. _This is the vial we've all been wanting._ Turning around, Edward drifted out of the room and back into Madeleine's lab. But somehow, he didn't feel so willing to give being a ghost up. It wasn't really the invisibility - even though it came in handy sneaking into places where you weren't wanted, but it was the convenience. You didn't have to wait to catch a plane to Russia, or Madagascar, or- or even Antarctica, if you need to go there. And you were transported _instantly._ Besides, anything the Madrigals had ever invented? That was cool, and it arrived right in your hand, ready to use.

But-

Edward felt his link with Madeleine begin a tug-of-war within him. He couldn't remember feeling this way, wanting to please her and be human, but wanting- wanting... Edward didn't even know what he wanted. It was just something hanging there, maddeningly out of reach. Perhaps it was the clues, or- no... It was that thrill. That un-equaled thrill of excitement that rose up when a clue-to-the-clue you had been working so hard on, suddenly opened up all it's secrets. That was worth so much.

But not as much as her.

Or was it?

Frowning, Edward ran his index finger along the rim of the vial. It swung lightly in it's holder, careless and free, ignoring the facts of the torment it was giving to it's holder. Yet there was all Madeleine had given up for him. Edward wavered. Was it truly such a high price to pay? Did giving up convenience equal giving up _Madeleine_: the girl with the rosy red cheeks and laughing green eyes?

Never. It never could.

Edward carefully slid the vial out of it's holder and held it up. Inside, the black liquid swirled around and around, threatening him. It was cold, cold and hard; unloving.

_Never._

It took a slight second for Edward's fingers to uncork the vial. Then with clammy hands, he grasped the smooth glass sides and swallowed all of it.

* * *

><p>It tasted bad; like an over-generous portion of un-distilled vinegar being dumped down his throat. Edward gagged at the film left in his mouth. His stomach churned, rejecting the vile substance, but he clamped both hands firmly over his mouth and swallowed. <em>Nauseating.<em> All other words were inadequate. 'Revolting' pretty much leveled out even with 'nauseating', but _just_ disgusting? Whoever had thought up that word had obviously never experienced this.

_Who has?_ Edward swallowed again, desperately trying to get rid of the vinegar-ish film covering his tongue. _How- how did I ever do such- such a stupid thing like drinking something without knowing what it did?_ The room began to swim around him, contradicting the fact that his stomach was becoming relatively settled. Edward stumbled over to the wall where there wasn't a table, and leaned against it. His head ached, his stomach hurt - even though it had settled, and every nerve in his body seemed like it was on fire.

Edward sank onto the floor, one knee propping his chest and head up. In all his life he'd never felt anything like this. His muscles rebelled against him, not staying an inch anywhere. His head nodded forward, and his forehead cracked against his knee. _Did Madeleine go through this?_ Edward's thoughts raced through his head like water, never staying in one place for long.

But the pain! The pain rushed through his veins, devouring everything in its path. There was nothing he could do to stop it. This was something beyond Asprin, or Advil, or any kind of over-the-counter painkiller. Edward wondered vaguely if Madeleine had a gallon of morphine somewhere. With all the strength he had, Edward raised up an arm to his forehead and felt the throbbing, hot skin. Blood pulsed through his veins faster than he thought ever was possible; his heart pounded with agonizing relentlessness.

_I really _was_ stupid._ Edward thought ruefully, before the pain overcame him, and his vision grew black.

* * *

><p>TL: You <em>were<em> stupid.

DC: Yeah, yeah... I know. I should have asked. But I just thought- because Madeleine took it...

TL: The Ways of Madeleine are greatly Mysterious.

DC: Ha, ha. Very funny. So are you going to Jane's horror flick viewing again? Mads is excited to see Jaws, so I don't think anything could dampen her spirits now... O.o

TL: No kidding. That last horror movie though... What was it? 'Let Me In?' *shudders, shudders, shudders*

DC: What IS it about that movie. Mads doesn't like it either.

TL: One thing: _don't watch._

DC: Well, I believe that I've got that firmly implanted in my brain, Luke. What's up with it? Is it scary?

TL: No, it's not really _scary_. It's just... _weird_. Like- look-under-your-bed-there's-a-chainsaw-ghost-under-it-weird.

DC: Hm... That sound like the kind of horror movies I like to watch, actually.

TL: Jane _liked_ it. She was laughing throughout the entire thing- pointing out all the special effects and dramatic monologue. Everybody else except Tom was scared stiff.

DC: You included?

TL: I'll admit it- yes.

DC: Wow. That's a first. I'll have to watch it sometime on Netflix or something. So what other movies are you going to be watching this time?

TL: Paranormal Activity one and two. Jane' s _pumped_ on those. Maybe I'll listen to her constant yammer about the special effects this time and save myself a few week's sleep. We watched Birds last time... Hm... I think that's it. Or else Jane hasn't talked to me about the other ones.

DC: XD That's cool though. I think I'd come, but I'm stuck watching Dani and making sure the Vespers don't go bankrupt.

TL: Isn't that Jacob's job?

DC: _Technically_. But you know how I'm constantly doing your work? Hm...?

TL: Okay, okay, fine. I've got to go. Lu's coughing down my back reading this. Bye!

DC: Bye- LUKE, I WANT MY _PAPERWORK_!

TL: Nice try. XD

_*Darth Cahill has logged off* *Total Lucian has logged off*_

* * *

><p><strong>Okay. Before this, I wasn't planning on having italic parts in the story due to their flexibility on well-written-ness. I thought it'd be rather funny. You'd be going: "NOoOoOO! EDWRD CANT DIEEEE!1!" But unfortunately, I had to put italic parts in for my mental sanity. But still, I'm going to ask this question.<strong>

**Question; If there were no italic parts, would you think that Madeleine's serum kills Edward?**

**And by the way, may I note that there are a **_**lot**_** of time jumps in these first few chapters? I would watch that if I were you, because if you don't, you can get EXTREM-ELY lost.**


	5. Chapter 5 (without chat)

**Hello there. :)**

**I feel terrible for leaving Termination off for so long, especially as I've had lots of encouragement to continue it. However, I've decided to leave it off. The original idea I had got too weird somewhere along the line and I don't know if I can actually write it in good conscience. I do plan to write a How it Should've Ended page, linked on a chapter here, and you will receive all the chapters I had before things went haywire.**

**As you've probably noticed, there isn't chat on these pages minus a few sections. This is because I did have a few of the original (unedited, although I tried to reform them a little before publishing) chapters besides the 'new' ones I lost and I wanted to get a little bit of this off my mind.**

**Therefore, while all this is good and well and you may not be wanting to kill me at this point (thanks ever so much) keep in mind that all my work is now 160% better and I wanted to rip out my eyes while re-reading these chapters. xD Work in progress, everyone... If you do like my works though, I'm more frequent on DeviantArt where I also do a little bit of everything.**

**Thank you, Everyone!**

**(And especially, thank you, magicdemi. I think you knocked me back into remembering this fic. :) I'm so dreadfully sorry to all of you guys also for making you wait without any hint on my well-being.)**

**Pulta**

**-=-(*)-=-**

_Two Years Later/ August 9, 2002;_

**Chapter Four;**

**Under Rapid Fire**

Madeleine bit her lip as she dried a dish and put it away, trying to make it not clink as it was placed on the shelf. Edward was off rummaging for something in another back room while talking on the phone. Madeleine hesitated to put another mug away, running her finger over the intricate design. It wasn't _fair_. This was the second time in a month, and he was leaving for another week and a half again. He'd spent more time _away_ than with _her_.

Throat clogged, Madeleine battled with herself. Was it better to speak out? Edward would probably understand if she said something. But... but maybe he wouldn't. Maybe it would just be safer to keep silent as she had for two, enormously long years. _He'll be back in a week and a half,_ Madeleine promised herself. _And then everything will be fine. _But... would it?

The click of a closing cell phone jerked her from her thoughts. Turning around with the towel still in her hands, Madeleine met Edward's eyes as he stood in the doorway.

They were both nineteen, in the 'normal' world, but truthfully, Madeleine could see the difference in- not Edward's features, but his sky blue eyes. He had seen things, like her, that even grandparents and great-grandparents could never recall; things that would die out, even with generations of re-telling. Madeleine would have laughed at the word 'ancient.'

"I wish you weren't going," Madeleine whispered softly, drying her hands on the towel.

Edward shrugged. "There are some things you can't miss in life. This is one of them."

He was right about that-_ish_... "Are you _sure_ you can't do it some other time?"

"It's rather important, Maddie," Edward sighed quietly. "I should actually be driving to the airport right now." He glanced at his phone's cover where the time was stated. "I'm late."

"Be late for _me_," Madeleine made her way over to him and hugged him, forcing her throat to remain open. She was stronger than tears. "I love you."

"As do I," But his hands were full, and he couldn't hug her back.

Madeleine followed as he made his way out the door, up the steps, and into the bright sunshine. He had parked the truck there earlier to speed up loading.

Then after a few minutes - quick goodbyes with condescending nods - he was gone; only the flattened grass and muddy tire tracks were left. Madeleine sighed and turned to go back inside, but a glint in the grass caught her eye. Kneeling down, Madeleine scooped up the 'glint'. It was an easy task to recognize Edward's phone. What did he have on his ear morning, noon, and night?

The Entertainer startled her out of her thoughts. Jerking up, Madeleine lost her hold on the phone. It eluded her grasp- once, twice- and landed on the grass after the third time. Grabbing it, Madeleine flipped it open and pressed it to her ear. "Hello?"

"_Oh, good. First ring. Ed- they did it a- wait a second..."_ The frantic speaker paused._ "You aren't _Edward_!"_

"It's me," Madeleine wondered if Grace, the speaker, knew who 'me' was. "Madeleine- you know."

"_Yes, yes, yes. I know. Give the phone to Edward, Mads, and I mean hurry. _Now_, please."_

"He just left," Madeleine murmured, smirking slightly at the fact she was _not_ complying with Grace's hurried attitude.

A tortured groan from the other end of the line. _"He- _left_?! Then how on earth-?! How did you get his phone?!"_

"I knocked him out and stole it from him," Madeleine replied, grinning.

"_You wha-?! Oh, fine. Never mind. I'll hang up and Scype him somehow- there's got to be a connection on the plane..."_

"Wait!" Madeleine bit her lip, not even sure of where her thoughts were going. "Wait, Grace."

"_What?! I'm _busy_, Madeleine. I can't be bothered by trifles."_

"No... what- what's going on?" Going back down the steps, Madeleine went into the house. "Edward flashed out of here, and the only thing he told me was that it was a short-notice trip. I... What's going on with him, Grace? What's so important that he's got to leave- _now_?"

Dead silence on the end of the line. _"So... you mean he didn't tell you."_

"Tell me what?" Madeleine swallowed hard. Her feet mindlessly directed her to Edward's office. She stopped at the doorway.

"_I... shouldn't tell you, Madeleine. Ed said to leave you out of it anyway. Oh, for the love of- I need to _go_, Madeleine. Why on earth am I even talking-"_

"Because I'm Madeleine Cahill," Madeleine snapped back. "And because I need you."

"_For _what_?"_ Grace was grumpy now.

"For telling me what's going on. If Edward won't tell me, then somebody's got to."

"_Somebody doesn't have to. You can reasonably and quite easily stay out of the 'know', and respect Edward's wishes."_

Madeleine snorted and took a step into Edward's office, too busy bargaining to pay attention to the TV looming over her head. "Have you ever known me to do that?"

Grace groaned. _"No."_

"So tell me." Taking another step forward, Madeleine ran her fingers over Edward's computer keyboard. The black screen disappeared instantly, making Madeleine jump back in surprise.

"_Edward told me not to."_

"Who founded this branch?" Madeleine snapped back, nearly angry now. "Me, or Edward? And even if Edward _did_ start it, then what am I? Chopped liver?"

Grace sighed. _"Don't start, Madeleine."_

That put her over the edge. "DON'T _START_?!" Madeleine roared into the phone. "I am PAST the 'starting point'. Now you TELL me what's going on, Grace Madeleine Cahill, or so help me, I will _REMOVE _your position as branch leader. HECK to branch leader. I'm BRANCH _FOUNDER_! And when I want information, I GET it!"

Grace was silent on the other end of the line.

"_Well_?!"

"_Fine,"_ The reply was quick and short. _"But there isn't much time. Now, I don't know if you're in Ed's office. If you aren't-"_

"I'm there," Madeleine snapped.

"_Open up his desktop screen."_

Madeleine had no clue what his 'desktop screen' was, and doubted she could open it up, even if she did know what it was. "Yeah..." She murmured uncertainly.

"_Google 'CNN - breaking news, twin towers'. You'll find it. And that's the cause of all this chaos."_

Madeleine frowned, reading the blue, highlighted little buttons on the computer screen. One was closed, but was partially reading; 'Bk. News - Twn...' Perhaps that was it. Glancing at the mouse to her side, Madeleine moved the arrow carefully over the button and clicked on it.

"_Well," _Grace said, rather hurriedly on the other line. _"Can I go now? Because Bush needs help, and this isn't getting me anywhere."_

"Wait," Madeleine breathed. The image in front of her was moving. It was just a few people talking, and then the screen in front of them switched to a flaming building. Suddenly a plane, flying, slammed into the one tower that wasn't burning. Rubble flew. After a few minutes of flaming, the first tower wavered, then wobbled, then slowly collapsed, the top part crushing down on the collapsing inner structure. Then the second one, only a few seconds after the first.

Madeleine couldn't feel anything- the desk beneath her fingers- the phone in her hand. _How many people were there?_ She grasped at logic. _How many families were destroyed? How many widows were made?_

"Who did it," she gasped into the phone.

"_Tomas suicide fliers,"_ Grace replied back, grimly. _"They took over the commercial flights, so far as we can tell, and then bombed the towers. But they worked together- the lot of them. You know what I mean. And of course, the Lucians had to choose the date. 9/11."_ Grace laughed bitterly.

"How many-" Madeleine swallowed, trying to get her mouth to form the words. "How- how many... died?"

"_Thousands. No estimate yet."_

A sob broke through Madeleine voice. She pulled out Edward's computer chair and dropped down into it. "Wh-" she couldn't cry. Not now, when people needed her most. "What do you need... Ed- Edward for?"

"_He's coming to Washington to authorize whether we need to declare war, or not. Why?"_

How could she be so casual when... they were _dead_? _Thousands. _Not tens, not hundreds- _thousands_. Madeleine had to remind herself she was dealing with Hope's descendant. Suddenly she was consumed by rage. Not at Lillia, or at Grace, but at the thoughtless, merciless Cahills that had done this... _thing_. "Tell Bush to declare war," Madeleine hissed into the phone, still watching the pile of rubble where the towers had stood on the screen. "And tell him, to tell Congress, that if they don't declare war within a week, I will _personally_ gather _every, single, one_ of the Madrigal agents around the world, take over Congress, and declare war _myself_."

Grace was silent for a moment. _"I wish it was that easy, Madeleine. But in this case, I guess I don't have to wait for Edward."_

"You're _damn right _you don't wait for him," Madeleine snapped. "You can quote me to Bush on what I said. Declare war, _now_."

Madeleine snapped the phone shut.

The noise echoed loudly in the room, added only with the sound of Madeleine's tearless, body-raking sobs.

_Thousands._

**-=-(*)-=-**

_One and a Half Weeks Later;_

Madeleine cursed Edward's flight for being late. Every time she turned around, she felt as if she were walking in a dream. Nothing seemed like reality now- as if the full impact of what had happened a week ago still hadn't sunk in. Perhaps if he were here, he could knock a bit of sense into her head. But of course, his flight was late.

Madeleine picked up the plate and dried it, making sure that there wasn't a speck of water on it by the time she was done. There was too much time anyway. Why not waste some of it?

She whirled around as the garage door opened next to the counter. Edward's head poked in, grinning lightheartedly. Then about half a second later he saw Madeleine's face. In three quick strides she was curled up tightly in his arms.

The ball broke.

Everything hit her. The waste, the bitterness, the Cahill family ties- so distant they could barely be called family, the lost- the dead. The _thousands_. Sobs over-took her and she cried, heartbroken, into Edward's jacket. He rocked her gently back and forth, understanding.

"I know, Maddie," Madeleine choked on the bitter tears that wouldn't come. Edward kissed her. "I feel the same way."


	6. Chapter 6 (without chat)

**Ermegeerd... such drama in a chapter... o_O**

**As a heads up also, I'm well aware that the second chapter of Forgiveness makes no sense whatsoever. This is because when I tried to update the re-done chapter a while back, it saved it as the second chapter of Termination. Then I never edited it. :P Soooo, if any of you guys are mildly interested in reading the **_**correct**_** chapter, you can go back to chapter two of Forgiveness - now fixed and redone. ;)**

**-=-(*)-=-**

_Another Two Years Later / 2004;_

**Chapter Five:**

**A Piddling Matter of 500 Years**

_... Twenty-six... Twenty-seven... Twenty-eight... Twenty-nine... Thirty... No..._

Madeleine bit her lip. Maybe it was the sound of the dishwasher that was throwing her off. She got up, paused the dishwasher, and started to count again.

_... Twenty-six... Twenty-seven... Twenty-eight... Twenty-nine... Thirty..._

Madeleine threw down the calendar in revulsion. They made it wrong. Anything else would be impossible. Or, perhaps, she was just late for another reason. She _had_ been drinking a lot of tea lately... No. Madeleine kicked the calendar in disgust - as if she could humiliate the object for being incorrect, and stalked out of the room. No. It was impossible.

Not even just impossible, it was- was- _stupid, inconceivable, unimaginable._ Being part Jane, Madeleine could think of tens- no, _hundreds_ of words that decently described her predicament. But she didn't have time to say them all.

Walking into her bedroom, Madeliene flopped on the bed - grabbing a pillow and hugging it to her chest. She suddenly wanted to cry. _Of course,_ she thought bitterly, _The mood changes now._ Like she needed those. _Everything_ pointed that one way, but _nothing_ made sense! Letting go of the pillow with her right hand, Madeleine slid it down and rested it gently on her belly. It wasn't swollen of course, but it would be soon if the calendar was right.

Arching her back so she could get at her back pocket of her jeans, Madeleine rummaged around and found her phone. She flipped it open and punched 'Two-Send'.

"_Hello, you have reached the answer machine of Katherine Cahill, who's brilliancy is going to change the world." _A smile slipped onto Madeleine's face as she listened to the message - made even funnier if the 'instructions' weren't listened to. She started talking, half listening to Katherine's message on the other line. _You see_ - Hi there, Katie - _there's a 'beep'_ - it's me, Maddie, - _after this, so if you_ - I was wondering - _have any words you would like_ - if I could stop by. - _me to hear, please say_ - I know it's Sunday - _them after the 'beep'_ - so I wasn't sure..."

"GOD_, MADELEINE, WILL YOU_ STOP _THAT?!"_

Madeleine nearly fell off the bed with her laughter.

"_That is _NOT_ FUNNY! I'm_ serious_, Mads! _Stop_!"_

Madeleine couldn't breath. She tried to ease herself out of the stomach cramps she'd laughed herself into.

"_I didn't understand a word you said - and that's the reason you say it _after _the 'beep'."_

So much for that. She started wheezing again.

"_Alright, give it to me,"_ Katherine's voice switched to Luke's. _"What is it, Maddie?"_

"I'm dying!" Madeleine wheezed out, and began laughing again.

"_Then in that case I think I better hang up the phone. And let you die in peace."_

Madeleine gained reasonable control of herself, and tried not to think of any catalyst to start her laughing again. "Okay, seriously. I was just calling Kate to check up on something and see if I could go over to her apartment. Why are you there, anyway?"

"_I had a checkup."_

Madeleine snickered. "_Lovely_, Luke. Good luck. I hope you pass. Can you give the phone back to Katie now?"

"_No."_ There was a thump and the phone on the other line switched hands. _"So what do you want?"_

"Can I come over?"

"_If you're going to switch out my vials of water with vinegar, no, you can't. But if you come on a respectful, peaceful line, ye- _maybe_ you can."_

"I come in peace," Madeleine smiled. "And I'll tell you all about my problem when I get there. Do you... think you'll be able to kick Luke out by that time?"

"_Eh, I don't know. Probably."_

"Great. I'll see you in a few, Katie."

**-=-(*)-=-**

Yet Luke's car was still sitting there.

_Of course._

The door to Katherine's apartment was unlocked, and Madeleine opened it to find both Luke and Katherine hunched on the floor which was lavishly covered with nine checker boards. Chess pieces were scattered all over the 576 squares, and from the looks of it, Luke seemed to be winning. But then, she didn't know the rules, either.

"HA!" Katherine finally leaped to her feet. "CHECKMATE! Now, who says I don't win?"

Luke raised an eyebrow, then leisurely moved his king over a space.

Katherine stomped her foot.

"I thought you were going to be out." Two heads turned at Madeleine's comment.

"It's called a distraction." Katherine moved a pond forward with her foot, capturing Luke's knight. Luke captured her queen. Katherine said an un-ladylike word.

Madeleine rolled her eyes. "You guys, seriously. I have a problem, and Luke, I'm like- _nearly positive_ that you don't want to hear about it."

"Is that so..." Luke murmured, taking his knight back since his pond had reached Katherine's side of the boards.

"I would recommend you to leave. _Now_... if that's possible."

"Not happening," Katherine was back on the floor- her nose nearly brushing the chess boards as if getting a 3D view of the battlefield would help her chances of winning. "I've been at this for three hours. I'm not quitting now."

"You said you were getting a _check up_!" Madeleine groaned, as if they might realize her pain and speed things up a notch - because with Katie and Luke, three hours wasn't nearly as long as was possible and she really didn't need a sleepover at the moment.

"A mental check up," Katherine corrected. "If I beat him, then I can prove once and for all that he needs his cerebellum shrunk."

Luke snorted - stating that possibility was _not_ happening.

"What?"

"Precisely, Madeleine." Katherine moved her bishop directly into Luke's well-set trap. "There's a chair over there, and I have popcorn in the microwave. It's probably stale now, though..." That possibility wasn't pondered on long.

"Checkmate."

"No!" Katherine leaped to her feet. "You can't do that!"

Luke snorted, brushing himself off as he got to his feet. "Apparently, I just did."

"You cheated!"

"People with 150 IQs never have to cheat."

Madeleine couldn't resist a snicker.

Katherine glared witheringly at both her brother, and her sister. "That's not fair."

Luke shrugged, kneeling down and beginning to fold the nine chess boards up one-by-one. "Life isn't fair, Katie. I thought you knew that."

"Life _was_ fair before you came into it."

"Then your life was never fair, although some other lucky person's might've been."

"That's my point."

"Too bad, so sad." Luke scooped up the numerous chess pieces, separated them, and dumped them into their respective boxes with a concluding flourish. "Now you can put your full attention on Madeleine's problem. It seems to be rather urgent."

Madeleine shot him a grateful look, and he rolled his eyes.

"Whatever," Katherine sighed and grabbed her bag of popcorn from the microwave. "Begin your soap opera, Maddie."

"It's not a soap opera," Madeleine snapped. "It's a problem."

"Ah..." Katherine opened the bag and munched thoughtfully on a handful of popcorn. "Your problem then. State your problem."

Luke spun a chair towards Madeleine and plopped down in it, obviously not going anywhere, anytime soon. "As soon as _he_ leaves."

Luke pulled his phone out of his pocket and glanced at it. "I don't have to go yet."

"_Please_," Madeleine flinched. "You're going to make me uncomfortable."

A raised eyebrow. "That's a first."

Katherine groaned. "If you _really_ can't leave, then go into my bedroom or something."

Luke rolled his eyes and got up. "Of course, because you're- oh, so concerned about my listening in." He mock-bowed, then went down the hallway and turned into Katherine's bedroom. Both girls listened until they heard the door click shut.

"So what is it, Mads?"

"I'm late," Madeleine whispered softly.

"Late? Late for what? I mean, you called to come over here. It's not like you can time the stop lights, or something-"

"No," Madeleine stopped her. "It's... well, you know. I don't usually keep track, but it's almost been two months. I've never had a break as long as that."

Katherine stopped eating the popcorn, intrigued. "So, you mean..."

Madeleine bit her lip. "But I don't know. It- it's- _ridiculous_, Katie! How on earth? I mean- it's been _five hundred years_. Five hundred years. How is that _possible_?"

Katherine put the bag of popcorn down and started thinking. "Try looking at it in a different angle," she suggested after a minute. "Like this: we all died at different times in the 1500s. No biggie. But the serum you made - I think it was the mercury - that brought us all back at seventeen. Then the other serum, that _we_ made..." Katherine shot a glance at her younger sister, making sure she got full credit for her part. "-had the same amount of mercury, but a different counterbalance. So technically, removing all time substance, we_ are_ only seventeen. Or twenty-one, considering it's been four years prior."

"That makes sense the way you put it," Madeleine nodded slowly. "But I still just can't... grasp-"

Katherine raised an eyebrow. "Do you _want_ a baby?"

Madeleine curled up in the corner of the one-person couch, hugging a pillow to her chest again, and curling her arm lightly against her belly. "I- I don't know. I never thought... after Hope. When Edward came back, it was just me and Edward, and I thought that was how it was going to stay. After we were human, I didn't really care, because I never thought..." Her voice trailed off.

"There are drugs now," Katherine shrugged.

"No-" Madeleine broke in again, shaking her head. "Not that. I- I _do_ want him. But... I can't see ahead. With Lillia I knew, and I could do everything. But... with this baby..."

Katherine shrugged again. "I don't really see your problem."

"It's not the baby, it's Edward, isn't it."

Both girls whirled around to see Luke leaning in the hallway opening. He was smirking slightly, eyes on Madeleine.

Madeleine threw her pillow at him.

"It's _not_ a difficult matter to open the door up after it's closed." Picking the pillow up, Luke tossed it back to Madeleine. "And I was right about Edward, wasn't I?"

"_I_ was right about you needing to leave!"

Luke rolled his eyes and turned towards Katherine. "Your turn, and your door needs DW-40. I'll know if you open it."

Katherine rolled her eyes at him, then got up and stalked into her own room. There was the click of the door as it shut.

"Why _on earth_ are you imagining that my problem is _Edward?_" Madeleine hissed.

Luke shrugged, sitting down where Katherine had been seated a few moments before. "You think I don't know? He drives me insane sending me emails every day that I'm suppose to print out, read, sign, and then get back to him. I don't think he ever leaves that computer, does he?"

Madeleine bit her lip and looked away.

"That's what I thought. So...?"

"Luke- you know that's... not..." Madeleine's voice dropped to a whisper, as if she were unsure of herself. "... true."

"Do you believe it?"

Madeleine positively hated at that moment, that her brother could be one of the best lawyers in the books. It wasn't _fair_. "Of course I believe he loves me."

Luke waited, meeting Madeleine's eyes with a intense gaze that frightened her. If he really _could_ look right through her, what was he going to see? A person who was strong - unconquerable, but soft-hearted. Or a person who, down deep, was worse than any villain in the history of the world? She hugged her stomach tighter.

"Luke- stop it."

"I want an answer."

A sob rose and clenched tight in her throat. "I don't- I don't... _know_. I don't know anything now! It's all so confusing-" Madeleine bit down on her tongue, stiffling her gasps in the pillow; trying to block out his neutral, rational stare.

"Madeleine... look at me."

Why should she look up? If he hadn't been here, none of this would have happened. If Katherine had just kept asking her questions and herself kept up with the answers none of this would have happened. Why did _he_ have to ruin everything? She looked up because there would be no peace if she didn't.

Luke was standing next to her seat, even though she hadn't heard him coming around. His brown eyes were reserved, but open - willing to give to her. "Don't misjudge others like you're misjudging yourself." There was a wry smile. "Being genetically enhanced doesn't mean you're a superhero. It means you less than that, to be truthful. Don't try to be one." Luke offered his hand out to her to help her up.

The words tumbled over one another in their hurry to be released. Madeleine choked them back, trying to sort through the thoughts quick enough. "But what about- what about Edward? Lu- I can't. I can't trust because- I just- I can't-"

"Because you're trusting your head," Luke smiled. "Not your heart."

Madeleine drew her knees up quickly and buried her head in them to hide her shaking shoulders. "Why _should_ I trust that?!"

"Because your heart is smarter than your head." Madeleine could feel Luke gently tucking one of her black curls behind her ear. It released another choked breath. "Because you never gave up on me, even when your head told you that-" Luke shrugged. "-there was nothing. You're going to give up _now_?"

"_But what about _Hope?" Madeleine retained the fury built up from the last four years because he wasn't the one that caused it, even though he didn't understand. He didn't _understand_. Nobody could understand. "Is this baby going to grow up like _her_? Not even _knowing_ her _parents_?!"

Luke's eyes scanned down for a moment with a hint of sympathy, or maybe guilt and then he was Mr. Lawyer again. Madeleine could have kicked him in a very _unpleasant_ spot. "Alright. Point taken. I'll make a deal with you."

"I don't want to make a deal. I want my life fixed up, or splintered. Black or white."

"Well then, listen: Edward isn't stupid. Preoccupied, maybe, but not stupid. If he really won't pay attention - which I think he will - then wait. He can't ignore you when you're 40 centimeters out."

"If he can pay attention, then he does a pretty good job of not doing it."

"Alright then - if that's how you want to play it. If you have the baby and Edward_ still_ doesn't notice-" Luke rolled his eyes with a rough clearing of the throat that might've been a disguised laugh if any louder. "-then you can divorce him. I won't have any complaints. But if he does, then sit it out and wait some more. That's reasonable, isn't it?"

Madeleine met her brother's eyes rather hopelessly. "You don't know Edward like I do."

"Perhaps not, but I know him well enough."

Madeleine finally sighed. "Fine. But until the baby's born. No longer than then."

"Not a second later."

"Deal."

Luke offered his hand again, and Madeleine took it. The moment she was pulled up, she got embraced in a hug, however. Madeleine curled up under Luke's chin, grateful that at least one person didn't care how idiotic she was. How long had it been since she'd even gotten a hug from Edward?

"Ah... _em_."

Luke gently let Madeleine go with a parting kiss on the forehead, then turned around to face his other sister. "What? I think my therapy worked better than your interrogative session."

"You call that _therapy_?" Madeleine muttered, rolling her eyes.

"I wanted my bag of popcorn," Katherine reached over to grab her popcorn bag, and then dropped it in shock. "It's _EMPTY_!"

Luke had a questioning frown on his face that Madeleine could clearly read. He was guilty. Typical Luke. "Really?" And now his voice was in a lilting, inquisitive British accent. "Let me see... Oh, look at the time! I've got to go!"

He was out the door before Katherine could lean over and hit him.

**-=-(*)-=-**

Madeleine held her breath, then carefully poured an extra drop of vanilla into her glass filled with the rice milk. Having a bad reaction to the vanilla earlier might help with the adjusting, but she didn't feel like brushing her teeth again. Stirring up the liquid with her finger, Madeleine then screwed the lid of the bottle down tight and popped it back in the cubbard. She let out all of her breath in a relieved sigh and grabbed her plastic glass when the expected wave of nausea didn't hit her. Horchata was good, but much better when not topped with vomit.

Suddenly Luke walked in the door carrying a handful of papers. He was wearing shorts, the same pair he'd been wearing that morning, and a green teeshirt that somehow managed to make him look like his arms were too long, he was too tall, too thin, and too strange-looking, all at the same time. Madeleine leaned back against the counter and took a sip of her horchata, thinking lazily about what shirt Edward had that would look much better on her brother.

She had gotten through blue teeshirt #3 when Luke jerked her out of her thoughts by rolling his eyes and saluting her. Madeleine giggled and saluted him back. He groaned, probably wondering if he ought to reenact the scene of a slave driver and a slave. He didn't though. Relatively disappointed, Madeleine watched him make a disgusted face and walk straight into the back hallway. Oh well. She couldn't have everything.

It took five minutes to set up her trap, so she was waiting for an extra ten until Luke walked out - not holding the papers.

_Five seconds... Four... Three... Two... One... _

The splash of water and the roar of anger.

_Music._ Madeleine grinned and took another sip of horchata. Luke's soaking head poked back in the room. Madeleine giggled as his hair dripped water onto the tile and ran down in little rivulets on his face. It was even better than dragging him to some water park in the middle of nowhere and watching his jaw drop.

Luke's brown eyes zeroed on her, then he raised his fingers to his eyes, and made the _I'm watching you_ motion. Then he disappeared again.

Giggling, Madeleine put down her cup and raised her hands to her mouth. "IF YOU MISSED IT ONE TIME, YOU CAN MISS IT AGAIN."

The plastic bucket went bumping down the stairs after her words, one - by - one - by - one.

Madeleine had time to take another sip of horchata before Edward walked into the kitchen. He put down the papers he was holding and began to sift through another pack of papers on the counter absentmindedly. Madeleine watched him, waiting.

"What did you do to Luke?"

Madeleine jumped, fumbled with the glass she was holding, nearly dropped it, grabbed it, and regained her composure against the stove. "I soaked him."

Edward leaned against the counter, pursing his lips. His eyes had a dim sparkle behind them - like an echo of the twinkling light that use to be. "Why?"

That was a very, _very_ difficult question. Madeleine tried to think up the best answer. "Because I wanted to."

Edward rolled his eyes. "Good comeback. Now, remind me, why is the bucket lying in the middle of the floor again?"

"That's not my fault," Madeleine answered truthfully. "He kicked it there."

Edward stared at her, then began to laugh softly, shaking his head at the same time. "You're impossible, you know that, don't you?"

Madeleine pushed herself off the counter, then walked a few steps forward to kiss Edward lightly on the cheek from across the corner of the counter. "Naturally," she whispered.

How long had it been since they'd talked? Not just... talking; like this.

"Edward?" Madeleine looked up into the blue eyes. They were relatively open now after having been freed from their work-induced prison.

"Hm?"

"I-" Madeleine hesitated, biting her lip and looking at the sandy-smooth granite counter top: little flecks of mica in the stone sparked in the overhead lights.

"What is it? Spit it out, Maddie."

"It's..." Her tongue was a wooden-stiff form of iron lead. It didn't want to pull back to form the 'm' or force down to form the 'p'. Her lips didn't want to push forward to for the 'w' sound, either, if the routine Old English language would have helped get the words out.

Edward gently slipped a finger under her chin, forcing her to meet his eyes. They were laughing a little, curious and amused by her silence. "I'm right here, Maddie. It's alright."

Madeleine stood up from across the counter and took a deep breath. Her nerves relaxed. "I'm- I'm not sure, really. But- but I think I'm..." She hesitated half a breath too long.

Edward's phone began to spew out Scott Joplin's Entertainer.

Madeleine could have ripped the phone from Edward's hand, thrown it in the oven, and turned the oven to 'Broil - 500 degrees'; not Fahrenheit - that was far too good for an interrupting phone - _Celsius_. Pure torture.

Madeleine could have watched bits of metal drip down the sides of the phone, and _smiled_ at the inanimate object.

But she couldn't.

Edward softly reached over the counter and tapped her lips for moment, silently asking her to stay quiet. Then he dug in his back pocket and produced the distasteful object. Madeleine stood there, holding her plastic glass of horchata and acutely feeling the separation. Edward was gone then, ultimately gone.

Every time he picked up his phone; every time he touched the filthy computer keyboards, he crossed over a vast cavern where she couldn't follow. She had waited too long.

Her chance was gone.

Madeleine turned her back, setting down her drink. The rice-milk drink held no taste for her now; not even the vanilla did anything when before, it had made her stomach do a delightful little flip every time it slid down.

Footsteps echoed in the kitchen as Edward walked away.

**-=-(*)-=-**

Madeleine had locked the doors, both inner and outer for the night.

The house was empty - frighteningly so. Oh. But of course, not entirely empty. The heartless sound of the computer keys was divided every few seconds by a typical space-bar bong. Alone with the emptiness, Madeleine could feel each 'bong' landing as hardly on her mind as if someone had been flicking her head with a pencil. Words and unsaid phrases lingered on her tongue, but she didn't dare speak them aloud, even though nobody would hear. The words were frighteningly too precious now.

_Remember when I was trying to hide Lillia from you- to surprise you later? Can I do the opposite now and still surprise you?_ Or perhaps: _We need to buy new paint for the guest bedroom, Ed. It really is too old for a baby, don't you think?_

But...

Madeleine slid down into the couch right by the door and huddled in its armrest corner closest to the fire. It gave comfortably under her weight, and she grabbed a pillow to hug against herself. The stone, gas fireplace to her right had a fire in it, and was flickering gently. There wouldn't be much smoke with the gas and all, but Madeleine had designed the smoke - if there was any - to come out of a hollowed tree trunk on the surface. The couch across from her had an old homey look. It was a pompous, over-stuffed, burgundy thing, bought at a garage sale for twenty dollars, with wild horses running free though multiple streams of water all over it.

The couch she was sitting on was a replica of the one across from her, just smaller; it fit two people. Two gigantic love seats that were probably able to fit double versions of Thomas were situated next to small tables to the inside of the fireplace. The carpet was grey, and the walls - including the ceiling, were a brownish-red. Not burgundy, precisely; something close, but not the same color of the couches.

Madeleine hugged the pillow tighter to her. She loved this room. It was so... _cozy_. She felt like it was indestructible here. No matter what happened in the adjoining kitchen, this was a place of peace. If only Edward...

Madeleine's thoughts trailed off as she closed her eyes. Her head drooped down onto her chest, and then just as suddenly, a 'bong' broke into her silence.

Madeleine blinked herself awake and settled into the silence again by watching the galloping horses across the room from her. They were a happy band. Their leader was perhaps... Chief White Hooves, with the mare beside him; Winter Harmony. Madeleine stared at the picture for so long she could imagine herself in the West, riding on a horse, bareback. There was no Virginia spring snow falling outside the doorstep where she would have to scrape it, and its icy counterpart off the next morning. There were no pine trees like she'd grown up with all her life. These trees were different; mesquite, acacia, and cacti. The wind was in her face, and water splashed over her as the band of horses galloped through.

Bliss - and then another 'bong' landed on her mind.

Looking up, Madeleine pushed herself to her feet and gently laid the pillow back in the couch corner where it belonged. Edward had been at this for too long, and if she didn't act soon, she would lose all the words she'd been meaning to say. And_ that_ couldn't happen.

**-=-(*)-=-**

Edward's fingers were a blur across the keys. In the entranceway, Madeleine momentarily paused, focusing on one key and then trying to keep track of it. It was an impossible task, and she stopped after a minute. Taking a deep breath she stepped across the room and laid a hand on Edward's shoulder. The 'bong's missed a beat, making Madeleine smile. "Edward?"

"Hm..." The 'fwap, fwap, fwap' of the backspace key sounded in the otherwise silent room.

"I needed to tell you something. You know, before the phone call."

"Oh." The clicking started again.

Madeleine steeled herself. "Edward... Ed, I'm- I'm with child."

"Hm? Oh, that's great, Mads."

A sob nearly broke out of Madeleine's chest, and it forced her words to come out choked and jagged so they tore at her throat like needles. "Edward, can't you listen to me? Please? Just- just for a few seconds?"

"I-" A different colored screen popped up on the computer and Edward leaned in, muttering to himself. "... UN - Egypt, England, France- hm... Oh, yes, Maddie. I'm listening."

Madeleine wondered slightly, if knocking him out with one of those stupid computer keyboards would jar some sense into him. "Edward I'm _pregnant_!" The pleading words were alien on her tongue - from a different era, as well as a different language.

"Madeleine, love, I'm busy right now. Perhaps later would be a better time."

A wall of imprudence burst. _And when will that be? Next year? _"I wish _I _was busy!" Madeleine screamed, "You speak for _yourself_, Von Anderson!"

Spinning around on her heel, Madeleine whirled out of the room - half furious and half so anguished she couldn't even feel the jar of her steps as she walked down the carpeted hall. She leaned against the wall, furious. And of course, Edward didn't even come out of his office; his prison. He probably hadn't even heard her.

It was like the old knife was back; cutting into her with such painful precision that each tear was a sob - doubling her over. A single tear trickled down her face and she wiped it away stiffling the next sob since she was ever, so much stronger than that. And she couldn't be like that; not for herself, but for the baby. That he - it _had_ to be a 'he' - would grow up to be like little Hope. Hope hadn't even known her father - none of the girls had. History was said to repeat itself. Did that happen with families too?

Madeleine doubled her arms in a crisscross over her stomach. It helped a little. The sobs didn't double her over, they just forced her lungs to beat against their ribcage prison. She was going to be sore tomorrow.

Sliding a hand down, Madeleine rested it on top of the area where the soon-to-be-bump would appear. Her throat pulled back, and she had to choke out the words as if she was biting her tongue every time she said something. "Your uncle better be right," she finally whispered.


	7. Chapter 7 (without chat)

**-=-(*)-=-**

_December, 2004;_

**Chapter Six;**

**A Previous Recurring Promise**

It was silent - too silent. Edward could hear the magnified ticking of the kitchen clock all the way in his office: that was a bad sign. Usually it meant Madeleine was out on an errand or something of the like, but this had been going on all morning and for the three hours of the afternoon. Something was up.

Edward flipped from one notice on his computer to the other. He'd been on a roll until thirty minutes ago. Somehow this silence - this _persisting_ silence had clogged his brain and whispered to it that it ought to shut down on the fly. With an annoyed groan, Edward stared at his background picture of a dirt road, disappearing into a misty temperate forest. There was far too much to do, and far too little time to do it. Yet here he was, sitting aimlessly, and acting like he didn't have a thing to do in the world.

Perhaps Madeleine might clear his mind.

Getting up out of his chair, Edward walked through the house, listening for any traces of her. There weren't any, so obviously she wasn't in the house. Meandering out into the kitchen, he glanced around. It was sparkling clean with a foil-wrapped something sitting on the stove. A thawing meal for later, perhaps. Then a scrap of paper caught his eye.

It was taped to the edge of the black, horizontal oven handle. Edward pulled it down and glanced at it.

_Hg,_

_Vhfrqg ohiw rq Fhqwhqqldo;_

_Iluvw uljkw rq Khos;_

_Vwudlijkw wkurxjk Fohrsdwud._

_Uljkw;_

_Uljkw;_

_Sdun._

_126__th__ Exloglqj;_

_430__th__ Urrp;_

_Nqrfn._

_- M_

_Boost 4_

Edward stared at the paper for a while. _Gibberish._ He finally groaned. But, unfortunately, Madeleine never wrote gibberish - unless it was on her agenda to annoy him.

Sitting down at the kitchen table, Edward grabbed a pen and began thinking on how to unravel the code. 'M' was obviously Madeleine, signing the note. But what on earth was 'Hg'? Some sort of name? Maybe... maybe that was _Ed_. Edward triumphantly rewrote a few words, switching the 'H's for 'E's and the 'G's for 'D's. No luck. Still gibberish.

_Boost four..._ Boost four... Was that suppose to mean something? It looked like she'd just scribbled it absentmindedly on the corner of the paper. Perhaps she was reminding him that he needed to check the doings of the Tomas at Cape Canaveral- No. _No,_ Edward reminded himself. _Madeleine knows nothing, and it's better that way. She can't be used as a pond if she knows nothing. _So perhaps boost four was a random scribble. In that case...

Edward began to rewrite the note multiple times, using every code he knew. Still gibberish.

Thirty minutes later, he was about to give up. Nothing had worked. Perhaps Madeleine had wanted the code to go unsolved: it was going to stay that way, apparently, whether or not she wanted it so.

Edward stared at the Boost 4 in the lower right hand corner so hard he could feel the word and number imprinted firmly on his brain. It would be a piece of cake to remember each little fancy twist of Madeleine's fifteen hundred handwriting, and an even softer piece of cake to remember precisely where she's crossed her little 't'; a little towards the bottom of the 't', rather than the top; evidence that she'd written the note in a hurry.

Suddenly something clicked and Edward's brain began whirling. Scrambling for his phone in his back pocket, he dialed Jane's number as fast as his fingers could punch the keys. Of course, she didn't pick up. Edward's foot bounced wildly across the floor, fueled by energy contained for thirty minutes. Jane finally picked up on the eighth ring. He'd wasted forty seconds already.

"Jane, I need your help. What's a synonym for 'boost'?"

"_Why do you want to know? And for heaven's sake, I am writing a _book_ here! Have you ever heard of the rages Janus throw when they're disturbed?!"_

"No," Edward replied dryly. "I haven't. And I have need a synonym for 'boost'. Now hurry up and get it out. It takes too long to grab a thesaurus."

"_No, no, no. It's pronounced; t-h-e-s-a-u-r-u-s. Pronounce it right, or people won't know what you're talking about. And if people don't know what you're talking about, then how on earth can you write a decent poem?"_

"I don't _care_ how it's pronounced!" Edward sputtered. "Give me a synonym for 'boost'!"

"_Ah, ah, ah a-ah. Sy-_no-_nim. I don't want to hear it out of your mouth any other way."_

Edward swallowed hard and counted to ten. "You can't argue with the spelling. Give me a s-y-n-o-n-i-m for 'b-o-o-s-t'!"

"_Look before you leap, Genius. It's s-y-n-o-n-y-m, not s-y-n-o-n-i-m."_

"I don't want an entire grammar lesson!" Edward exploded. "I want the-"

"_Yeah, yeah. I know what you want. But Miss-Going-To-Be-Published-Exceeding-Writing-Author-Jane-Cahill wants you to pronounce everything. Exactly- the way- it ought- to be."_ Jane bounced her last sentence so every two syllables the word flipped off her tongue.

If Edward had been in less of a rush he might have paused to consider how cool it sounded; but he was in a rush, and he didn't. "Jane Cahill, if you don't give me that synonym right now, I'm going to-"

Jane started to sing. _"I fear no gifts- I fear no evil- all I fear is a fierce upheaval. An upheaval of song- an upheaval of wing- an upheaval of all pretty flying things. I fear the word- I fear my pen- I bow to the-"_

"SHUT UP!" Edward roared. That song was going to be stuck in his head now. He _knew_ it. "I WANT MY-"

"_Synonym?"_ Jane's voice was blissfully innocent. _"I'm sorry, Ed. I'm fresh out."_

There was a click as the line went dead.

Edward _very slowly_, and _very carefully_ counted _very precisely_, with the _very essence of control_ to one hundred. Then he _very slowly_, and _very carefully_ counted _very precisely_, with the _very essence of control_ backwards from one hundred. Picking up his phone _very slowly_, Edward _very carefully_, and _very precisely_ dialed Jane's number with the _very essence of control_.

"_What do you want?!"_ Jane's voice was somewhat like a little bird, Edward imagined; fiercer than anyone would have anticipated. _"I only got three paragraphs written! Call back at a better time!"_

"I want my sy-"

"_GEEZES! You're interrupting me for THAT?! God, Ed! Does 'up' work, or do I have to go digging through my own thesaurus because you're too lazy to dig through yours?!"_

"_Thank you._" Edward rolled his eyes and hung up before Jane could shoot something out along the line of 'upheaving birds' and 'fearing pens'.

So it was _up_. Everything fell into place then. Boost 4 hadn't been rocket science, it had meant '_up_ 4'. Edward scribbled the alphabet on the back of the scrap of paper, and then decoded the message as fast as his fingers could go.

Ed,

Second left on Centennial;

First right on Help;

Straight through Cleopatra.

Right;

Right;

Park.

126th Building;

430th Room;

Knock.

- M

Edward stopped at room 30, his heart pounding like it wanted to break out of his chest. A glimmer of dim light shown out from under the white door. It made sense since this was a corner room, and the window would most likely be facing west.

Madeleine had always loved sunsets.

Raising up his hand, Edward knocked. The sound vibrated around the white hall, the usual sounds of a hospital absent. It was empty then, except for this one room. Perhaps Madeleine had privately selected it for her own reasons.

Edward shivered in the hall, trying to think of anything except his nice, warm, underground home about five miles away. Winter was closing in quickly, and these hospitals- _Brr..._ Edward made a mental note to look into how the hospitals split their federal funding. Perhaps there was an embezzler in the district.

Otherwise, there was no noise in the room. Wincing at what he might encounter, Edward turned the doorknob and pushed the door open a crack.

Light flooded into the hallway, and the bright whiteness of the room nearly blinded Edward for a second. There was a bed pushed in the middle of the room on the left side, with a night-stand right by it, again, on the left. There were windows in both corners, enabling the occupants to look down and view the city from three stories up. A few chairs were on the far side of the bed, as well as a little plastic... container? No. That wasn't the right word. It was like a little plastic box with the top cut open- erectly standing on it's four wheeled legs.

Madeleine's hair was loose, as usual, but bits of wild hair - 'frizzies' as she called them, were flayed everywhere; a few of them plastered to her forehead as if they'd been wet with sweat before. Edward could see the long black braid that snaked down under the covers, but its loops were uneven and twisted, like the weaver's fingers had trembled a few times too many.

But it was Madeleine - the same Madeleine, no matter how different. She had evidently pushed herself up into a sitting position where she'd been lying on the bed previously, and Edward could feel the contempt that radiated off of her for being seen- _here_; in a hospital- perhaps seen as an invalid that needed taking care of.

Edward stepped into the room and closed the door with a subtle click behind him. He could see Madeleine's face a bit clearer now. She was watching him with an expression of... He couldn't tell. Edward almost frowned, then caught himself. Was it aloofness? The indifferent expression in her eyes; the slightly lifted joint of her chin? Or was he just imagining things. Perhaps it was the Janus in him. Edward shuddered slightly, wondering if it was possible that he might somehow discover an unwanted ending to Jane's song.

"What on earth happened, Maddie?"

Madeleine gazed starkly at him for a moment, then ignored his question. "You found my note."

"It wasn't like you hid it anywhere."

"But it was coded." Madeleine turned her head and gave a quick nod towards a chair sitting besides her bed.

Edward walked around the bed and sat in the chair. It was hard; his butt felt like it was going to break off after a few seconds. "I decoded it. It wasn't that hard."

"Who did you call?"

"What?" Edward raised an eyebrow. Madeleine was probably showing off on her face-reading skills. "What do you mean?"

"You must have called someone. I gave you a hint, but even Luke took an hour and a half to figure it out." He face was haughty- almost like an older sibling finding their younger counterpart stealing a cookie out of the cookie jar before supper.

"I called Jane."

"Why?"

"Because I needed a synonym for 'boost' to prove that what I thought was right."

Madeleine nodded, her eyes more scrutinizing than ever. "And you solved it yourself?"

"Of course." Edward frowned then, almost feeling trapped with her gaze. It seemed like... she was _angry_ at him, for some reason, and in some small way. Madeleine rarely got angry, but somehow, this was... different. It _was_ aloofness that she held with every rigid muscle in her body; but... _why_? "Now, could you answer my question?"

"No."

Edward would have taken a step back if he had been standing. The emerald green eyes that had always held such unjustified adoration were now firm and solidified with unblinking coldness. Like- like he was suddenly unwelcome. _But wha-?_ "What_ is_ wrong, Madeleine? You don't go to a hospital to celebrate a family reunion, or to have a pool party. I deserve an answer."

"You deserve nothing of the kind."

_Who- what-?_ This wasn't Madeleine. Madeleine was never like this- cold and uncaring. She was... _his_. Edward didn't know any other way to put it. "Now look here, Madeleine Elizabeth; I don't know what's gotten into you, but you-"

A tiny whimper that broke into a baby's fussy cry suddenly snapped his voice before he could get the other words out. Madeleine's cold, green stone eyes regarded him with distaste, and then she leaned forward and pick up a bundle. Leaning back against the bed's headrest, Madeleine was once again Madeleine. She was clutching the blanket-wrapped bundle tightly to her chest with a deathly protectant aura, but utter love was in her eyes as she looked down on the little figure.

Edward felt like he was being choked. "You- didn't... _tell me_?"

Madeleine's head snapped up, similar to a rubber band. All love was gone; replaced by a expression somehow similar to intense dislike. "I _didn't_ tell you? Your memory fails you, Edward."

Measuring the stress levels in the room was like finding where an earthquake was going to strike, and when. It was an impossible task, riddled with stress lines and fractures that had been coming to the surface and had decided to strike now. "_My memory fails me?_" Edward suddenly realized he was standing. Perhaps he had more energy stored inside him than he had imagined. "What did you do? Mention it when I was so busy I couldn't _focus_?!"

Madeleine curled her arms defensively around the baby. "You are _always_ busy, Edward. If you wanted me to speak when you aren't sitting at that stupid computer, then I would NEVER talk to you. My son _will not_ be affected by that. I will not_ let_ him be affected by people who are so 'busy' they can't cross their eyes properly."

"He is _our_ _son_." The entire argument balanced precariously on what Madeleine said next. They could both feel it.

Madeleine's eyes were firm and even as she spoke. "He's mine, Edward."

So this was it, then; an argument over who was going to care for the little bundle after a divorce? All those hours, all those meetings, all those debates; and this was what it came to. _Wasted. _Everything he'd ever done in this 'second life' if it was suppose to be called that. Edward gathered breath for a smarting reply when Madeleine's head turned towards the door.

They both could hear the energetic footsteps growing louder as they approached the room. Edward sat down heavily in the chair, tired, although he didn't know why. It took a few moments before the footsteps stopped and Luke's head poked in the door. He didn't knock, of course. He glanced at Madeleine, then gave a sloppy grin and shut the door behind him. "Hey Mads. Sorry about the delay. There was a emergency coming in at the same time as us, and we had to wait."

"We?" Edward raised an eyebrow.

Luke shrugged, stepping farther into the room and looking everywhere - outside the window included - except at the two people he was taking to. "Katherine and I."

The normal Madeleine was back again. Edward flinched slightly at the thought of how quickly she switched back and forth. "But I thought you were picking up-"

"Jane?" Luke finished his sister's question, grinning slightly. "I thought I'd call her first so I wouldn't have to go through the entire complicated process of getting yelled at- etcetera, etcetera, etcetera. Anyway, it turned out she was" - quotation marks in the air - "writing a book, and didn't want to be disturbed; so I saved myself some trouble. I picked up Katie to make it up to you."

Madeleine's delighted eyes twinkled happily as she sifted positions on the bed. "But that brings me to another question. Where's Kate?"

"Katherine." Luke corrected, smiling; then he shrugged. "She was walking inside with me. Then this big package full of 'something's went by and I lost her. She knows what room we're in though. Don't worry."

Madeleine rolled her eyes.

"YES!" The door suddenly burst inward at an alarming rate of speed. Only the doorstop behind it prevented the doorknob from crashing into the wall. "I GOT IT!"

Madeleine yanked her feet to the side of the bed and hugged the baby closer to her as Katherine collapsed, exhausted but happy, on the foot of it - uncaring for anything except the full vial she held in her hand. "Got what?"

Unnoticed, Luke closed the door as Katherine grinned at her younger sister, still oblivious of the baby. "It's a form of recently developed separated carbon molecules. As you grow older, carbon inside you dies, see? So if you can genetically separate the carbon molecules from other living things - plants, animals, etc. - and then add a few human links to them, you could actually..."

"Brilliant," Madeleine chuckled softly. "But do you even remember why Luke carpooled you here in the first place?"

Katherine paused. "No," she finally mumbled. "Not really."

Luke rolled his eyes with a helpless, exaggerated, sarcastic air.

Motioning with one hand for Katherine to come closer, Madeleine leaned carefully over and placed the little bundle into Katherine's arms. Katherine's mouth formed a small 'o', and then she very gently kissed the object on top of its forehead, cooing with a typical aunt's adoration.

Edward seethed with undisplayed anger. Here he was, the very _father_ of the baby, and Miss Prissy-Aunt Katherine didn't even have to ask to hold him. It was his _son_, for God's sake! _His son_! But did he-? _No_...

"Here," Edward's contemptuous thoughts were overrun by Katherine holding the little bundle out to her brother. "He's not going to bite, Luke."

"Ah, ah, ah, ah." Madeleine laid a hand on Katherine's arm, stopping her. Then the younger sister nodded towards the GermX Sanitary Solution dispenser by the door. Luke compliantly obliged his sister, and then rather antsily took the baby.

Madeleine's hawk-like eyes watched every movement. Suddenly she stiffened. "For heaven's sake, Luke. Watch his head! He's not a two-year-old, as you know perfectly well!"

Luke sheepishly handed the bundle back to Madeleine's open arms. "I'm not the one who's going to be burping him in the near future anyway."

Madeleine rolled her eyes and settled back against the headboard.

"So have you thought up any names yet?" Katherine was practically bouncing on the bed with anticipation. "I've got the _perfect_ name! _Tylenol_! Don't you think? And then you can call him 'Ty' for short!"

The other three people in the room looked at her like she'd lost her mind - and perhaps she had.

"I pity your son." Luke shuddered, echoing the other's sediments.

Katherine looked hurt. "Well, I was going to suggest Penicillin if it was a girl."

Madeleine abruptly broke into spastics coughs. She managed to raise an eyebrow once they'd ended. "As in Penny?"

Katherine grinned. "Precisely."

Edward watched out of the corner of his eyes as Luke walked over to the window, placed both hands on the sill, and with silent desperation, tried to hide his laughter-shaking shoulders. Edward felt like doing the exact same thing.

"I was thinking of Anesthesia too, or Tumoir."

Edward barked a laugh, but quickly caught his mistake and disguise it as a cough. "You would name my son for a _tumor_?"

"Of course. It's a perfectly reasonable name."

It sounded like Luke was close to laughing tears. Edward had to admit his brother-in-law was a pretty decent actor though. Katherine still hadn't noticed him- although the secret-ish smile in the corners of Madeleine's mouth proved his other sister had.

"He already has a name," Madeleine murmured softly. Edward felt his head snap around to face her. He hadn't been consulted in this; _again_. "Wade."

Katherine made a face. "But it's not _technical_!"

Luke finally managed to push himself off the sill; he made his way over to the trio while wiping his red eyes. Katherine turned to him with a look of disgust. "And what happened to _you_?"

Luke collapsed all over again in wheezing, laughing gasps.

Katherine hugged, annoyed. "Fine. If all of-"

"Oh!"

Edward's eyes flashed to the door in time to glance at the sparrow-like nurse who'd entered. Everyone fell quiet. Flustered, the little nurse flew into action; shooing Katherine off the bed, straightening Madeleine's legs, and forcing her 'bed-ridden' charge to put her baby down and actually lay her head on the pillow. Edward nearly gawked at the fact she'd gotten that much done.

Then the nurse turned her boundless energy towards Luke and Katherine who were standing antsily at the foot of the bed. "Visiting hours ended ten minutes ago! What excuse do you have for yourselves?"

Luke shrugged. "We arrived eleven minutes ago."

The nurse wasn't amused. "Outside - both of you. Chip-chop. Quickly now. Imagine badgering a poor girl who's just had a baby! You ought to be ashamed of yourselves!"

Katherine turned towards the women, indignant. "I have a PHD in the medical sciences; I would hope that I would know-"

Madeleine suddenly raised a finger to her own lips and motioned Katherine to stay silent. Then she nodded towards the door with an added wink. Luke rolled his eyes as the nurse hurriedly ushered them out and closed the door.

"Hey Maddie," The door opened up again and Luke's head showed a bit through the crack. "I did win, didn't I? I mean, I don't see why I-"

"Sorry," Madeleine paused. She reached for Wade and gently cuddled him to her chest. "No- no, Lu, you... you lost."

"Oh." Luke blinked for a few moments, his face confused. Then he shrugged, rather helplessly, Edward figured. "Good luck, Mads, then."

The door clicked shut.

Both adults listened to the faint 'clicks' of shoes walking down the polished hospital floor till they had faded off into the distance. Cringing inwardly at the silence, Edward glanced down at Madeleine. She was clutching Wade as tightly as possible. But this time there was no aloofness in her gaze; just regret, and perhaps sorrow. "So I don't even get to help with the naming, eh?"

Madeleine swallowed hard before she replied. "It's no more than you deserve."

Edward bit his lip, then leaned forward. "When did I become so bad, Maddie? When have I _ever_ not tried to do the best for you?"

"When you left me!" Madeleine's eyes were filled with a courageous form of reckless terror; somewhat like the kind found in army men who knew they were walking into the jaws of death.

"I'm standing right here: unless I'm somehow an illusion and there's a copy-Edward around...?"

"But I left a note," Madeleine's eyes flashed. She ignored his joke. "Where would you have gone if I hadn't? All you do, all day, every day, is look at the sickening computer screen. I haven't talked to you in a conversation more than five sentences in a year. A _year_, Edward."

It was hard to break the deathly silence that had enveloped the room; even just to move. "Would you like to know why I did that?" Edward whispered. "Would you like to know why I sat - and sit, there, staring that the 'sickening' computer screen all day, every day?"

"Why?"

Edward shrugged. "Because I spent those days, all those meetings in protecting you: convincing every person in those other branches that you were worthless; that they never should try to use you as a pond in their chess games. I never told you so you wouldn't attack me with 'babying' excuses: I did that so I could protect you; so I would make sure I never lost you again."

Madeleine brought up her legs and hugged little Wade tighter. It was her position of security, Edward noted: she always did it when she didn't want to show her inner side.

"I love you, Maddie. I've always loved you - and _nothing_ will change that. Do you understand?"

"You sound like Father," Madeleine whispered. "Like when he always wanted to make sure I was listening to him."

"Good," Edward reached a hand up and slid a thick black curl behind Madeleine's ear where it belonged. "And I promise you, Mads, that I'm not going to get mad if you wack me on head for not listening to you, alright? And you can do that you that good, Maddie?"

Madeleine was soundless for twenty-seven seconds; Edward counted. Then she sighed softly and loosened her grip on the baby. "He doesn't... doesn't really have to be named Wade. Well, it- you know; it's not official yet, if you wanted to add a suggestion - other than Tylenol, that is." The bundle of blankets was suddenly offered to him.

Edward blinked and Madeleine cooly shrugged at his confusion. "You wanted to hold him, didn't you?"

It was settled. Edward ignored Wade and leaned forward, forcing Madeleine to pull him back. "To lose a son would hurt," he whispered, "But to lose you - that's fatal."

Madeleine's smiled as he kissed her. It was funny; he _had_ missed her without realizing it. She was perfect, and she was _his_. How could he have lost that?

Scooching over a few inches, Madeleine patted the space on the bed beside her, and Edward sat down. "So do you have any names - other than Tylenol?"

"Really? I thought Tylenol was a pretty good name."

Madeleine's expression of utter horror was priceless.

"I'm teasing, Mads. God no. But what made you come up with Wade anyway?"

Madeleine relaxed with a grateful sigh. "You better be. And remember when we were in Holland, the two children the Van Gekks had us take in?"

"Of course," Edward murmured. "Lillia and Wade."

"I promised Lil that I would name our Lillia after her. I couldn't think of any decent boy names on the fly - I thought it was going to be a girl - so I just... Wade seemed alright. Do you like it?"

"I love it, Mads."

Resting his head on Madeleine's shoulder, Edward looked over at his son. He had a newly born's red-ish, scrunched face with a half-crop of blond hair on the top of his round head. Wade almost looked angry in his screwed-up-face peaceful sleep.

"He looks like you," Madeleine murmured, leaning her head against Edward's shoulder.

"With green eyes?" Edward chuckled.

Madeleine smiled. "No, he has blue ones; just like yours. He'll be my little Edward, how's that? Just like Lillia was your little Madeleine."

Edward couldn't resist and kissed her forehead. "That sounds perfect."


	8. Chapter 8

_December, 2010;_

**Chapter Seven;**

**War**

"... Now he wasn't hungry any more - and he wasn't a little caterpillar any more. He was a _big_, _fat_ caterpillar.

"He built a small house, called a cocoon, around himself. He stayed inside for more than _two weeks_. Then he nibbled a hole in the cocoon, pushed his way out and... he was a beautiful butterfly! Now, what do you think of that?"

The little boy on Madeleine's lap giggled his contagious, three-year-old, little boy giggles, and Madeleine had to laugh with him. "No comments?" Madeleine kissed his forehead that was partway covered with thick blond curls. "Nothing, Will?" William, the little boy in her arms smiled up at her with another matching set of Edward's sky blue eyes. Madeleine gathered him up in her arms with a little resigned sigh. "How about we have a snack ready for Wade when he gets back for school?"

There was no reply, and Madeleine truly didn't expect one.

Setting William down, Madeleine let him toddle around behind her as she set up a plate with peanut butter, ranch dressing and a half-plateful of carrots. "Mom! Mom! Look what I got!" Muffled yells were heard with running steps. Second later, the door flew open and Wade burst into the room, red-faced and panting while waving a paper over his head. "Look! It's my English test! I got a hundred on it! See? Look!"

Madeleine laughed, scooping up her eldest son and taking the paper from him. Sure enough, there was a 100% marked on the right hand corner of the page. Madeleine squeezed Wade. "See? I knew you could do it. English isn't _that_ hard."

Wade made a face and wiggled to get down. "It's _boring_. All she talks about is nouns, and pronouns, and something weird thingies in the middle of the sentences called," -the six-year-old picked up a carrot from the plate and started chowing down on it- "prepositions. You'd think she'd," -chew, crunch, munch- "Wun wout wuv-"

"Ah, ah, ah, ah." Madeleine slipped her finger under Wade's chin and forced him to close his mouth. "Not while you're eating, Wade. Tell me later, then."

Wade chewed frantically, swallowed, and shrugged off his backpack. He continued right where he'd left off, as if his mother could remember his previous conversation. "You'd think she'd run out of, like- things to give us. I've got to write a _paper_! An entire _paper_!"

"Now, why do you think papers are that hard?"

"Because they're stupid," was the quick retort.

"_Wade_," Madeleine shot her son a admonishing glance. "That's not what I meant, and you know it."

Wade made another face and turned his backpack upside down, dumping five text books and multiple notebooks on the table; papers flew everywhere.

"_Wade_."

"I _got_ it.

Madeleine rolled her eyes. "You wouldn't have to 'get it' if you pulled out your papers neatly."

Wade sighed. "But it's so... _normal_."

Madeleine sat down in the chair to the left of Wade. Picking William up and sitting him on her lap, she reached over the table and tapped her son's pale nose. "Normality is a part of life. Eccentricity is a gift- and a momentary blessing that is to be treasured. Come on, pile up your books. I'll let you-"

"Ride Carrie?!"

"No!" Madeleine laughed, half wishing that she hadn't even gotten the horse in the first place. "When you're eight, Wade. For now, how about running outside for a good hour or so? I'll call you when it's time to come in and do your homework."

"Love you, Mom!" And Wade was out the door before Madeleine could blink an eye. Of course, the rascal dropped his coat on the ground so he wouldn't have to bother hanging it up.

"Edward, dinner's ready."

No response.

Typical.

"Edward." Madeleine reached out and gently wrapped her arms around Edward's neck. "Dinner?"

"Hm? Wha- oh. Dinner. I'll be there, Mads."

"Would you like to eat it cold?"

"It is rather important, Mads. There's a-"

"It's always important with you, Edward. Dinner is hot, _now_."

"Yeah. I know. I'll come eat in a minute."

Madeleine stared at the screen for a minute. For all her conversation Edward's typing fingers and regular 'bong's hadn't stopped for a moment. "_Edward_..." No response. Again. Well, it had been reduced to that. Shrugging, Madeleine leaned forward and 'accidentally' knocked Edward's right arm out of line as he reached for the 'm' key. Whap, click, clack, bong. It was like listening to a freight car stop suddenly, and each one of the cars behind it slam into the one before it.

Edward blinked. "I was on a roll."

"You're always on a roll, Edward. Dinner's ready."

The laughing blue eyes turned to her. "Now?"

"Now."

Throwing his arms up into the air helplessly, Edward got up from the chair and kissed her. "Not even five minutes?"

"Not even two."

"DADDY!" Edward laughed as Wade burst into the room, running like the devil was behind him. Scooping him up, Edward swung him around. "You're getting too heavy to throw!"

Wade made a face. "Can't you come and eat _now_? Mom made cookies!"

"Oatmeal," Madeleine reminded him.

The face Edward made was remarkably similar to Wade's. "I guess we still have to eat dinner to get them though. Come on." Plopping Wade down, Edward led him out to the kitchen with Madeleine walking along behind.

"What book did Will want to read today?"

Madeleine leaned against Edward's shoulder and stared hard into the fire. The glittering blue of the embers never failed to fascinate her with their dancing movement. The sparks flowed upward into the air like air-water and then fluttered out and drifted silently to the ground like flakes of snow. "We read The Very Hungry Caterpillar. He likes the ones he can see - picture books."

"No change?"

Madeleine sighed. "I know he'll talk when he wants to. Edward, people ask if he's just dumb. He's not _dumb_. He understands me perfectly, and I _know it_."

"I never disputed that, Mads." Edward wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "But... but he _is_ three. He'll be going off to school in two years. You may understand that, and I might understand that, but his teachers won't."

Madeleine found Edward's hand without looking and clung to it. Her hidden worry bounced to the surface, where it was finally noticed fully.

It frightened her.

"Edward-" Madeleine's words choked in her throat. "What- what if-"

"'What if' what, Maddie?"

The tightening arm around her brought comfort, but it wasn't enough. "What if _I'm_ the problem, Edward? What if Will's frightened to speak because of _me_?"

There was dead silence in the room, then Edward burst out laughing. "Please- you're joking, Mads; please, tell me you're joking. _Really!_ The idea-" Madeleine couldn't understand a word more of what he said, but she figured it had something to do about her sanity and Will's development being just fine. Or, perhaps he meant something about her profanity and frilly elephants bursting through pine.

Either way, her fears lessened.

Pulling up her legs, Madeleine curled into a ball and leaned her head against Edward's shoulder. The darkness of the room was parted by the warm orange glow of the fire against the carpet. The monotonous - tick-tock - of the kitchen clock sounded throughout the room, punctuated only by the soft sighs of Edward's breath and her own. Across from her, the tan horses flying across the small couch next to the door were fluorescently illuminated by the fire, and their tails flew proudly out behind them like miniature American flags. They were free somehow; happy to be trapped on a couch forever. It freed her to watch them.

Madeleine closed her eyes and slid sleepily into dreams of horses, and wind, and bald eagles soaring high above her head - stuck permanently in a sandwich of land and sky.

The muffled 'Entertainer' jerked her rudely out of her thoughts.

"That's Fiske..." Edward whispered, stating he'd noticed the sound, but he made no move to go towards the phone. Madeleine thanked her lucky stars.

After thirty seconds, the song stopped short, and all sound died again. For some reason , it sounded so soft in the room, you could hear a pin drop - or the light flickering. Then the Entertainer began to ring again. Madeleine could feel Edward flinch. He was getting rather annoyed. Annoyed. A small smile twitched across her face and she snuggled up closer to him. This was... _extraordinary; arrant; perfect-_

The house phone began to ring.

Both Edward and Madeleine jumped at the unexpected noise. "_Blast the bloody thing_-" Edward hissed under his breath. He leaped out of his seat and in four strides across the floor, had snatched the phone up from the hook and pressed it to his ear. "Now you're a good branch leader, Fiske Cahill if you call a bloody family at ten o' clock at night and-" Edward's words stopped dead. Madeleine could almost see the color drain from his face, making it look ghostly in the light. "- and... what?"

Something was wrong- terribly wrong. Madeleine could see it in the way Edward's eyes stared blankly ahead at the far kitchen wall, and then as he sank listlessly against the wall.

"But- but that couldn't _possibly_ have- you _have_ to be wrong! You _got_ to be!"

It was so quiet in the room Madeleine could hear Fiske's reply: _"Have I ever lied to you? I saw it with my own eyes, Edward."_

Edward sank down the wall till he was practically sitting on the ground with his right leg out straight in front of him. "But- God... that _can't_ be right! That _isn't _possible!"

"_Apparently it is. It happened."_

Edward spit out a word Madeleine was grateful the children couldn't hear; then he stood up and slammed the phone down on the hook. "Madeleine - I have to go."

"Go?!" Madeleine scrambled up from her seat. Edward was already pacing into the hallway. His footsteps echoed with an eerily tense beat. _1, 2, and 3, 4... 1, 2, and 3, 4..._ Madeleine shook her head to clear it. This was no time to be thinking of music. "Edward, you can't go!"

"You don't understand, Madeleine, and you shouldn't."

"_Shouldn't!_"

Edward stopped dead and whirled about in the doorway of his office. His face looked like a statue that had been cast in molten marble; eyes cold, hard, and vigorously commanding. "You shouldn't, Madeleine: and I ask you -_ beg_ you, because I know you'll do it anyway - please, _please_ do not try to find out what is going on. Promise me that. And promise me that you'll take care of the boys - whatever happens. Promise?"

"But I don't understand. How can I possibly-"

Edward pressed a finger gently to her lips. "Promise me."

"I... I promise. But Edward-"

Sliding a hand up, Edward buried his fingers in Madeleine's curls and kissed her. It felt different, Madeleine noted. Not sorrow, or anticipation - preferably opposite of the latter, but almost... desperation. Everything was rushed now, as if he was in a race against time of some sort. But... what _was_ going-

Then he was gone. He had switched the light on in his office and he was whirling around in side; locking up papers here, ripping them up there - then he stopped dead and turned to the computer. His jaw set, and then he grabbed a wire, pulled it into full view and snapped it. He was snapping the object of his direct attention?! The gasp was out of her mouth before Madeleine realized it. "_Edward!_"

He paid no attention to her, and repeated the action on another wire - and another, until five snapped wires hung limp and useless below the desk. Pausing for a moment, Edward slid something off of the corner of a table and stuck it into his pocket. Then he looked around the room.

Nothing looked like it had before. The desk - the papers - the computer - the knick-knacks - nothing. He had... _destroyed_ it; in less than a minute, he had destroyed everything he'd worked so hard on without a second glance.

Madeleine caught Edward's hand as he _1, 2, and 3, 4_-ed out of the room. "What is going on?! I have a right to know, Edward!"

The footsteps stopped. It was impossible to read Edward's face when he turned around, and it frightened her. "Mads, if I-" Edward bit back what he was going to say. "I love you, Madeleine. Always have, and always will." Madeleine smiled - more at his feeble attempt at humor than the joke he made. "You'll always remember that, won't you?"

"Of course."

Madeleine closed her eyes tight as Edward crushed her against him, hoping against mind that he would still be there when she opened them. It was too soon - not to end the evening, but to see him go. Why of all times did it have to be _now_? Couldn't it be 'in the morning', or perhaps 'tomorrow'? Why couldn't he wait? Why-

"_Love you, Maddie."_

"No!"

But in the split second it took to open her eyes, she already knew he was gone. There was the opening and creaky slam of the garage door. There was the silent - tick-tock - of the kitchen clock with nothing to stop it's momentous count of time's miniature seconds. There was the now evil-sounding crackle of the fire that had eaten Edward up the first time.

Madeleine choked back a sob as she leaned against the wall. _Gone_.

"M-mommy... where's Daddy?" Wade was standing outside his door rubbing his sleep-filled eyes. His white, train-covered pajamas were far too long, and dragged dejectedly on the floor behind the little boy; giving the impression that he was too small, and he liked cleaning.

Madeleine knelt down and scooped him up in her arms. Wade was heavy, but a comfortable weight; a weight that helped silence the pain in her chest. "He had to leave, Wade." Madeleine gently bent Wade's legs so he was sitting on her lap.

"But... but Daddy just-" Wade yawned, evidence of his two hours of sleep. "- just... left... No. Daddy just got home! He can't leave!"

"It's-" Madeleine hated the words her mouth was forming. It was a lie, and an extremely bitter one. "It was very important, Wade, and Daddy has to take care of it. You understand, don't you?"

"No."

Innocence was a treasure. Madeleine wrapped her arm around Wade and ran her hand through his six-year-old head of thick, blond curls. "Neither do I, Wade. But- but he'll be home soon. He's got to be. Don't worry."

"I... I want Daddy... _now_."

"Me too." Madeleine paused, then looked down at the little bundle of trains, blond hair, and innocence in her arms. "Wade... would you like Daddy home all the time - just like me?"

"... No..."

"No? Why?"

"Because..." - a thick, heavy yawn - "Because he's always... in his off-off-wice."

Madeleine had to smile slightly at Wade's mispronunciation of 'office'. "But even if he's in his office, he's _home_."

Wade yawned. "Not... enuf... Mommy."

"Not enough," Madeleine echoed. She let her head lean against the wall and her eyes close. It wouldn't hurt for one night not being in a bed.

Mother and son fell asleep.

_Two Days Later;_

Yes, he could leave.

_No, he shouldn't._

Just this once.

_But not this time._

Not home enough.

_Selfish: he was home too much._

Home.

_Gone._

Madeleine closed the refrigerator door and counted to ten. It had been an entire _day_ without hearing from Edward. No text - no phone call - no email - not that she checked her inbox that often. _Nothing_. Even when he had left on short notice before he had always called. Some joke - some note - _something_.

The confusion and silent hurt in Wade's eyes was unmistakable at breakfast. He'd eaten quickly, then gone to get ready for school. He'd forgotten it was a Saturday for God's sake. A _Saturday_! Wade loved school, but only for his favorite subjects. Any others, he hated with a passion that rivaled Maurice Richard's tenacity. On Saturdays he played around. Weekdays were entirely split off from Weekends; they were _completely_ different.

Madeleine turned away from the refrigerator and set the orange juice on the counter. _Eggs, toast... what's missing- oh yes. Butter._

"It's Saturday." Wade was standing in the entrance to the hallway. He had his backpack slopped off one shoulder, and his shoes were untied. The statement was a question, but a regretful remark at the same time, echoing the silent hurt in his eyes.

Madeleine pondered her reply avenues as she poured the orange juice into a glass. He would come up with a smart-aleck remark either way. "It's Saturday, Wade."

"Then why didn't you tell me?" The backpack dropped to the floor in disgust. "I have better things to do than making sure my homework is done."

"_Wade..._"

"I want Dad back! He was going to take me down to the school and we were going to go swimming! He _promised_ he would spend the entire weekend with us!"

"Your Father isn't a plate of eggs that you can cook scrambled or sunny-side-up, Wade. I can't force him to do anything."

"But you can try, can't you?! I'll bet you didn't even _try_ to stop him from going! You just _let him go _because we don't need him around."

"Wade!"

"It's- it's not fair!"

Madeleine took two strides across the kitchen and knelt down by Wade, who was trying desperately not to cry. "You know that I love your father more than anything, Wade. I'd do _anything_ to have him home right now."

"Then do something!" Wrenching out of her grasp, Wade whirled into the hallway and slammed his door shut.

Madeleine closed her eyes and choked back tears. But he was _right_. Wade was_ right_. Edward needed to come home, and somehow, someway, she had to get him back.

Yeah. Good luck with that one.

Madeleine stood still and thinking for about half a second, then she lunged across the floor and snatched up her phone that was laying on the counter. Fiske. Fiske would have to answer everything - but... what was his number? 1789? No... that was Katherine's because it went up and across. Luke's went over and down; Tom's was straight across diagonally. Grace's had been the one 1, and three 5s. But Fiske...

Turning around, Madeleine began to shift through the papers on the shelf next to the refrigerator. There was a paper with all the phone numbers on it in there; somewhere...

Suddenly a heavy clump broke the silence. Kneeling down, Madeleine picked up the small stack of papers that had been paper-clipped together and had fallen to the floor. There was a big, grand looking, bolded title 'DIVORCE' at the top with a bunch of insanely small print beneath it. Frowning, Madeleine flipped through it. There were five pages of the small print, and then an entirely empty page except for three signatures and one empty space as if another signature was suppose to go there, but was absent.

Madeleine could feel her face drain of all color.

It was Edward's signature at the bottom. There was no mistaking the fancy, Old English scrawl both of them wrote in. Not even a professional writer could copy it. Just for the heck of it, Jane had called up a calligrapher who owed Cora a favor. He'd done a good imitation, but forgot about the low slope at the end of every 'u'.

So who were the other people? To-be-witnesses?

Biting her lip, Madeleine stuffed the papers where they'd been before she'd knocked them off the shelf. She'd have to look at them later when she had more time. Another paper floated loose, but Madeleine grabbed it before it hit the floor. There were the names.

Grabbing the phone once more, Madeleine dialed Fiske's number. It took five rings before he picked up: one more than Thomas' usual number, and one less than Katherine's. _"Who is this?"_

For all her distractions, Madeleine still managed to note that even with his roughness, Fiske's voice sounded frightening close to a deeper version of Hope's. "It's me, Madeleine."

"_Mad- oh. Is everything alright?"_

His voice seemed nervous for some reason. "Yes- somewhat. I guess so."

"_Then why are you calling? I'm busy, Madeleine. I don't have time for prank calls."_

"Neither do I." Madeleine took a deep breath, and steeled herself with all the tips on arguing she'd gathered from Luke over the years. "I want to know where Edward is at, and I want to know what's going on. Ed has had to go on short notice before, but never at ten o' clock at night, and he's never- never _destroyed_ his office before he's left. I know something's going on. Don't try and pull the wool over my eyes, Fiske Cahill."

Dead silence on the other end of the line.

"Fiske?"

"_Yes."_ His tone was more gravelly than ever now. _"Madeleine- I'm afraid that I can't answer your questions. It's under strict confidential-"_

A picture of Wade's hurt eyes flashed into Madeleine's mind, and she snarled her reply. "I want to _know_."

"_I'm sorry. I'm afraid I can't. Edward told me purposely not to let you in on anything."_

Edward. Edward _again_; in on the whole thing, and keeping her_ out_. "_Fiske Cahill, _I swear, if you don't tell me what's going on this instant, I will give your great-nephew five packages of strawberry covered marshmallows and an entire room of video games: _plus_ take him to a ninja movie, if you don't agree. Is that threat enough?"

Fiske gave a dry laugh. _"Very much so. You're a good negotiator, I'm sure you know that, correct?"_

"Luke Cahill happens to be my brother. You get use to it. And don't you_ dare_ try to change the subject."

It sounded like Fiske made a half groaning, half sighing sound, but over the phone, the line cracked ominously, making his helpless gesture sound evil. _"Why do you want to know?"_

"What is it to you?"

"_Pains of death apparently, according to Edward."_

"You're the branch leader."

"_He's your husband, unfortunately."_

"Divorce might be an option."

"_I don't see the point in that truthfully, Madeleine."_

"You don't have to. Tell me what's going on."

"_I can put Edward on the line... in a half hour, maybe, perhaps."_

"In a half hour."

"_Perhaps. There was a 'perhaps' on the end of that statement."_

"Tell me, Fiske, before I have to use a computer. I really don't want to use a computer."

"_Phones are miniature computers. Oh... I shouldn't have told you that, should've I?"_

"Stop stalling."

Dead silence.

Madeleine frowned, listening to the buzzing of the line. Finally she could hear Fiske take a breath and prepare himself to speak.

"_You really want to know?"_

"Why would I still be talking to you?"

"_Fine..."_ There was a pause. _"Then it isn't my fault that I told you. All blame goes to you, and you directly, Madeleine. Do you agree to that?"_

"Stop chattering your teeth and start wagging your tongue with some purpose. I thought you didn't like to talk."

"_I don't. So I don't know why I'm still here, honestly. Do you remember the war you started - the one when Grace was still alive?"_

"A bit. Not clearly."

"_Of course," _Fiske muttered. _"You would be the one Madrigal who wouldn't remember. Anyway, do you want the story blunt?"_

"As quick as possible. And watch your words. Considering that I've seen things you'd be lucky to even _hear_ about, I consider my memory very good. Continue."

"_They're dead. All two hundred, sixty seven of them."_

"What? Who's dead?" Madeleine frowned. Her inner warning system started beeping quietly. Something was building here.

"_The agents that were fighting in the war you started. The War on Terror, technically - in the official records. It's technically the Madrigals Against the-Lucians, the Ekatrinians, the Tomas, and the Janus War. We were on an old post in Pakistan. Very crude - old place. Underground, as usual. It helps cut down the electrical bills in the summer heat. The other branches ganged up and-"_

"I don't understand." Madeleine could feel herself leaning against the wall, doing the same frightened, blank-eyed stare she had seen on Edward's face barely two days ago. "I- I don't- How could you let that _happen_?! Edward isn't in charge of things! You are! Didn't you have the tools- the technology- the... I don't know... the_ something_ to stop them?! Didn't you do _anything_?!"

"_Of course I did."_ Fiske's voice was gruff and curt now. _"But it was a surprise attack. The Ekats played around with the signals on the radar and removed a large grouping of soldiers that would otherwise have been noticed. They stuck the Janus on the front, we fell for the trap, then they caught us from behind."_

"You didn't put sentries up?!"

"_I did _everything_, Madeleine. It was a miracle twenty of us escaped to tell the tale."_

Madeleine clenched her teeth tight and forced herself to talk. "Fine then. But that says only half the story. Why did Edward go?"

"_I believe you missed what I said, Madeleine. Let me repeat it clearer. _We have twenty agents._"_

"Twenty."

"_I'm being completely serious, Madeleine. And I don't joke, by the way. We've already recruited all available assets. We've taken everything we have. We have _nothing left_."_

A wave of nausea hit Madeleine as the full meaning of Fiske's words sank in. Two hundred and sixty seven of her descendants were dead; two hundred and sixty seven of Lillia's children; two hundred and sixty seven of Grace's; two hundred and sixty seven of Hope's. Two hundred and sixty seven of her _own_. And truthfully, not even that. They were all dead then, if every asset had been taken - or most of the ones who understood what they were truly fighting for.

Peace.

Peace for not only the branches, but for the world - for the people who knew nothing about the 39 clues, or about Gideon and Olivia's demise. Even they weren't able to have peace, apparently.

"_Madeleine?"_

"I... I'm here, Fiske."

"_Are you happy to know now?"_

"He thinks all of you are going to die, doesn't he?"

"_Who?"_

"Edward. That's why he destroyed the computer and everything. He didn't want all the information to fall into the wrong hands. But if they win-" For once, Madeleine felt herself at a loss for words.

" _-We die."_ Fiske bluntly finished. _"And yes. They'll come after every Madrigal - you and the boys... Wade and William, was it- included. They aren't like Luke, Madeleine. He's here, fighting, if you'd like to know; as well as Thomas. The others are like- like... Hitler and the Jews; or something like that."_

"Stop," Madeleine whispered softly.

"_They want us dead at any cost. Not one - not two - _all_. It's called mass destruction and termination, Madeleine."_

"Stop." Madeleine's word fitted itself tightly in her throat and wouldn't come out.

"_Now do you see why Edward wanted you out of this? The less you knew, the less at risk you'd be. But now, I'm afraid, you're at just as much risk as the rest of us. Edward's going to kill me. Just remember, Madeleine; you called me- not the other way around."_

"I SAID STOP, FISKE!"

The phone clicked off just as the second word was out of her mouth. He didn't hear any of that, for which Madeleine was slightly grateful. Setting the phone down gently on its base, Madeleine recoiled from it and leaned back against the wall. This was worse than when the Twin Towers had been bombed. They were... _slaughtering_ her branch; they were killing them just to revenge a misunderstood accident that had happened five hundred years ago.

Madeleine understood wars. She had seen far too many of them for her liking. But each war had been with purpose - this was pointless.

Madeleine looked down at the tugging on her jeans. Little William was watching her with a concerned, worried expression - far too advanced for the three-year-old he was. Madeleine scooped him up into her arms and balanced him on her hip. "What is it, Will?"

Will caught her eye, then directed her gaze to the top of the cabinet where she kept the small cups; then at the pantry next to them where the snacks were kept.

"What kind?" Madeleine opened the pantry door so Will could be clearer.

He looked firmly at the cereal boxes.

"You don't like cereal without milk, and it's probably not the best thing to give you milk right now."

Will shook his head, then squirmed out of Madeleine's arms and climbed liked a squirrel to the cereal boxes. Triumphantly moving a few aside, he exposed the animal cracker box that Madeleine had hidden a few days earlier.

Madeleine had to laugh. Grabbing the box and her son, she carried them both over to the counter to pour William his snack. Thanking her with a childish grin, Will trotted away, experimenting with the number of crackers he could stuff in his mouth in one bite.

Gone?

Fear bit into Madeleine's heart for the first time. It was a different feeling than the pain she was so use to experiencing. This wasn't loss, it was the prevention of loss - the prevention of that happy animal-cracker-smile Will had just given her.

Fiske's words echoed tauntingly in her ears, making her mind throb. She placed a hand on the counter to steady herself.

If those last twenty died, then nobody could - or would - stop the others. She would die. So would Wade and Will. So would the other innocent Madrigal mothers, and other innocent Madrigal children. That was the worse. The children still had friends to make; lives to live, and joy to experience. Wade would never reach the second grade. She would never hear little Will speak his first words.

That they would dare to steal that from her.

Rage replaced the fear in Madeleine's heart. Her throat tightened, clenched, and her hands made fists. They couldn't take that from her. And they wouldn't. She would fight to the death herself before they knocked her down. And perhaps, even then she could fight from the grave.

A wry smile trickled its way across Madeleine's mouth at that thought. Her imagination wasn't _that_ good. Jane could probably draw a picture.

"Mom?"

Madeleine looked towards the entrance of the hallway again. "What, Wade?"

"I heard you talking to Fiske."

Of course. A natural eavesdropper - just like herself. "What did you hear?"

"Something happened," Wade's voice dropped to a half-frightened whisper. "Something bad. I heard that much."

The fear came back again and balled tightly in her stomach. Motioning Wade over, Madeleine knelt down on the tile and held her arms open. He ran into them and hugged her tightly. "I love you, Wade." Madeleine whispered softly. For some reason it seemed so final; like the very words Edward had whispered to her before he'd left for war.

_War._

How could such a little word be so devastating?


End file.
